Bellaria
by pattyrose
Summary: It is said that in the high middle ages, and in the midst of an unspeakable betrayal, a young knight made a timeless vow to his beloved wife, Bellaria: "Wait for me. I will find you…as always…for always."
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Good morning and happy Friday!**

 **I was going to begin posting on Monday (Halloween), but I've split the first chapter into two because it's a really long one, so I'm giving you guys the first part as an early Halloween treat.**

 **The regular posting schedule for this story is at the end of the chapter, as well as a few other things you may want to know, BUT if you're all in and plan to read the story no matter what, then don't even bother with the A/N below past the posting schedule. :)**

 **Michelle Renker Rhodes is my sweet beta again. (But I still make changes until the very end and mess things up, so that's all still on me).**

 **Banner is by the wonderfully talented and super sweet Ceci Lolypowski. Gosh, I love that girl!**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

 **Let's get started.**

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 **Chapter 1, Part 1: It Is Said…**

 _It is said that the legend originates here, in 1086 A.D. – 20 years after the Norman conquest of the Anglo-Saxon lands now known as England…_

The urgent pounding of hooves over muddy earth rumbled under the soles of my feet. They were faint at first, yet as the gallops drew nearer, their reverberations intensified, rattling up my spine and throughout my limbs.

"My lord!"

I shifted my gaze from the rich earth I toiled, the land I worked day in and day out save for the days of servitude to both baron and king. Yet the land would never be mine, not truly. I was as much serf and vassal as I was warrior and knight. But I worked the land with pride, and in doing so, I served my lord faithfully. I carried out all that my lord requested: fought in his tournaments, participated in his jousts, and rode in defense of him, God, and king in battle. I heeded all of his commands…save one.

The horses pulled to a stop before me. Behind me, I sensed my wife's approach. She must have heard the hooves as well and left our cottage to probe, for she was naught if not inquisitive. Nevertheless, I kept an even gaze on the rider in front, for he was my most trusted man. He sat impatiently upon his mount, both his and his beast's flaxen manes wild from the swift run, their eyes wary as a threatening storm, and their chests heaving from exertion.

"My lord, the baron returns from London as we speak! He rides to the castle with the rest of the council!"

The sharp yet quiet hitch of breath which left my wife fanned across the nape of my neck. Nonetheless, I acknowledged this information with a composed exterior.

"Thank you, Jasper. I will ride to the castle and meet with him."

"I will ride with you, husband."

Upon her declaration, I turned to face her, for she was the reason for all this frenzy. The breeze whipped up her long, dark hair, chasing the cascading spirals down to her slim waist. The dim afternoon sun reflected off of her rich, brown eyes. Yes, she was my reason for all.

"No, my wife, you will remain here."

"Edward…" At her sides, her hands curled closed then opened - an inclination of hers when uneasy. I took her restless hands in mine, courage and determination intensifying like a feverish flame within me at the feel of her warmth.

"Bellaria, I will face the baron on my own as a man, as a knight in his fiefdom…" I cupped her chin, "and as husband to his daughter."

"Edward, by marrying, we have disobeyed my father. You know full well he does not take kindly to disobedience. He will be displeased with us both."

"Which is why _you_ will remain here. I will bear the wrath of his ire on my own."

Her dark eyes sparked with indignation, causing equal parts impatience and desire to war within my breast and groin, for I wished to be on my way almost as much as I wished to fill her and quell that defiance. Her beguiling gaze, her resistance to man's will – even my own will at times, her unwillingness to remain submissive in a world where submission was expected from her…these and countless more were the reasons I loved my Bellaria.

Smiling, I cradled her soft face, which framed rebellious lips. "Bellaria, you must resist the urge to challenge me in this." Leaning forward, I whispered in her ear, "And you must not question me in front of Jasper and the others, for they are at ages where men seek wives, and your defiance will have them wondering what to expect of women."

Behind me, I heard more than one man stifle a chuckle. Jasper cleared his throat, signaling for the others to recall their place. Yet as I pulled away from my wife, I grinned at the amusement her beautiful, expressive eyes were unable to disguise, for she knew I teased her.

"They will expect that women have minds, and they will learn that true men, like you, are not afraid of their use. Edward, I worry. Father is a hard, unyielding man more likely to act than to think."

"He is a hard man, yes, but he has known me since I was twelve years of age and was brought to the castle as a squire. He has watched me grow into his strongest knight, into a warrior who time and again rides into battle in his name. If sentiment does not stir him, then I will appeal to his love for power and might."

Her dark eyes held mine with a tenderness that gripped my soul. Reaching up, she palmed my cheek as I did hers, her soft thumb brushing over my coarse stubble and the now discolored imperfection running in a thin line to just below my jaw.

"You have fought bravely and loyally in my father's name, and you bear well the marks of a fine warrior. Your honor is beyond merit." Her nostrils flared. "Yet none of it was sufficient for Father to grant us permission to marry. Husband, hear me; I am frightened that he will discount your numerous acts of chivalry and only count your one act of disobedience. Perhaps we should just flee, Edward, disappear into the woods and live among the forest creatures."

"I will not have you live like a savage in the wild. Do not worry, my wife. The union between us is done, and the baron must accept it, for it cannot be undone by lord or king. We are man and wife before God, and what He has joined no man can separate."

Her full lips pressed together into a straight line as she fought the urge to challenge me once more.

I chuckled at her expression. "Bellaria, this time I will do better in laying before your father the benefits to our union. I will make clear how it increases my strength and thereby my value to him. Then he will see that no duke, count, or baron in the kingdom could ever offer him such fealty, for no man could ever love his daughter as I do."

"Edward…" She held my eyes, searching them thoroughly before crashing her mouth to mine, her lips supple as a flowing river yet fiery as a scorching fire. She cared not if Jasper and the other men bore witness.

"We will do as you say, my husband," she agreed on a quickly stolen breath.

"Bellaria…" I pronounced her name as she pronounced mine - as a whispered supplication, for we worshiped one another. "It is all I can do to resist carrying you into our home and bedding you right now…pushing up your skirts and thrusting myself deep within the eager heat of your body."

"You know I will welcome it," she murmured.

With difficulty, I pulled back enough to meet her gaze. "Wife, you tempt me, but first, I must needs speak with your father. Prepare yourself, for when I return, I will bury my cock inside you for hours upon hours until you are sore from sheathing me."

Displaying that irresistible defiance of hers, she lifted her noble chin and raked her nimble fingers through my hair. "I will await your possession, my husband, for we both know I possess you as well. You are the only man who will ever tame me - as always…for always."

"As always…for always," I echoed, and for an immeasurable moment, we held one another's gaze, conveying more than mere words ever could.

"Jasper, you and the others will remain with my wife."

"But, my lord," Jasper, protested, fisting his ivory hair, "allow me to ride with you."

"A warrior heeds without question, Jasper of the white locks, or he shall never be a knight." Even as I said the words, I saw the hypocrisy in them, for I was a knight who did not heed without question. But Bellaria's father left me no choice. "You will stay with Lady Bellaria."

"Yes, Sir Edward. I shall heed and protect my lady. Shall I fetch your sword and armor?"

"No. I will not meet with the baron in combative mode. We will meet as men."

"Aye, my lord."

Before mounting my black beast, I turned around to drink in one last view of my wife. At the same moment, she turned slowly as if my gaze was a physical being reaching out to caress her soft skin. The growing breeze blew through her long, green tunic, causing it to dance around her perfect form while her long tresses wrapped themselves around her angelic face. And when the heavy mist rolling in from the forest completely hid her from me, I mounted my horse and rode.

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 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **First, a couple of basics for EVERYONE:**

 **As of now, updates are scheduled for Mondays, unless something comes up (in which case I'll try to let you guys know on Facebook or twitter or something beforehand). I've got about a billion things going on in RL right now - not necessarily bad things, just really busy things (like a high school senior applying to college and all the wonderful paperwork which goes along with that, a high school freshman who's just discovered the wonders of high school and must constantly be reminded that H.S. isn't merely for socialization, but for actual work as well, and a 6** **th** **grade overachiever who has to be reminded once in a while that a 90 isn't the end of the world, and that constantly staying up until midnight to make sure she achieves those extra 10 points probably isn't the best idea. And also, huge projects at work.) So yes, I may need to prioritize.**

 **Nasty reviews or pms will be completely ignored whether they're anonymous, signed, whatever. If you don't like what you're reading, stop reading and move on. I don't have the time to feed into your madness by replying. Period.**

 **Related to #2 above, this is all for fun, guys. It's a way to escape real life for a little while, for me as the writer, and for you guys as the readers. My grammar, spelling, and punctuation won't be perfect. I'll probably make glaring errors every once in a while (or more often). I'll spell "their" when I mean "there" and then hate myself because it's one of my pet peeves. I'll get names, places, times, etc., wrong or mixed up. But if we can all remember that this is supposed to be FUN, it will be more enjoyable for all of us. (And I won't end up in a corner curled up into a fetal position and therefore, unable to update). :)**

 **I will answer reviews and pms as much as I can. If something confuses you, of course, I'll try to clear it up, but if it requires my having to give away plot points, I may have to tell you to hold on until the story itself clears up your question.**

 **Okay, that was the end of the basics.**

 **NOW ONLY READ THIS IF YOU'RE THE TYPE WHO NEEDS TO KNOW MORE OR LESS WHAT YOU'RE GETTING YOURSELF INTO!**

 ***So here's the thing. I'm exploring my darker side in this fic. That doesn't mean rape, incest, bestiality, etc., but…well, it will get dark as in you may bawl your eyes out at some point(s). That being said, if you're willing to take the ride with me, I promise to try and make it worth your while.**

 **THERE WILL BE NO MORE WARNINGS. Please don't send me nasty pms telling me you weren't warned that there were dark times ahead. (You can send me nice pms telling me you weren't warned, but not nasty ones. The nasty ones, I'll ignore, as per #2 above). ;)**

 **Thank you!**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook group: Stories by PattyRose**

 **See you all again on Monday (aka Halloween)!**


	2. Chapter 2 - Castle Swein

**A/N: Happy Halloween Guys!**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes (although I make changes until the very end, so any remaining mistakes are on me).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

 **Chapter 2 – Castle Swein**

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At length, I was granted permission into the great hall of the castle. Despite the words of reassurance earlier spoken to my wife, my heart drummed in my chest as I walked the damp and dim corridor leading to the grand room where a celebration was underway in honor of the baron's return after a four-month absence. White pillared candelabras scattered about the great hall imparted meager light to the innate darkness of the hall, casting long, malformed shadows upon the paneled walls. The tables abounded with all manner of fare: bowls of exotic fruit and platters of savory dishes alongside pitchers overflowing with wine. The castle musicians circled the room with their flutes and psalteries, regaling diners with stringed diversion while they feasted. At the center of it all sat Lord Karles, the Baron of Castle Swein.

As his daughter described earlier, the baron was a choleric, implacable man. A Norman noble, Lord Karles was once a great warrior who was granted his fiefdom by William the Conqueror after the Norman conquest of our Anglo-Saxon lands. Upon their arrival into our shire, most people were forced into servitude on parcels of property once their own. My father, along with a host of our strongest men, was trained as a _masson_ by the conquerors to assist in the construction of Castle Swein as well as the construction of defensive walls around the city. Father's skill, in addition to his might, set him apart and earned him Lord Karles' respect; therefore, the lord _gifted_ him with the return of a parcel of his own land which lay within the defensive walls.

Bellaria was born and raised within Castle Swein. She was daughter to the baron and his only true remaining heir after the death of his wife, Lady Resmae, during childbirth and the death of Bellaria's older brother, Lord Emmot, in a hunting accident, now one year prior. Following Emmot's death, it fell to Bellaria to produce sons of noble birth set to inherit the fiefdom. By marrying me, a man of common blood, Bellaria's worth to her father diminished, and I could not be sure what form his punishment would take. He would revoke her birthright and name his cousin heir instead; of that, there was little doubt. Yet neither she nor I cared for such titles.

What I did not want was for my wife to live a life of peril and daily struggle beyond the protection of the defensive walls. I did not fear a struggle for myself. As a knight, my blood sang while in battle. As a tenant farmer, I worked with pride what was once my father's land. Nevertheless, I did not fear the possibility of having to abandon either. This display of contrition before her father would be for my Bellaria's sake. We did not need to live in the castle itself, but if he would allow us to remain within the walls, my wife would be safe.

As I approached the dais where the baron sat at table surrounded by his highest nobles, my footsteps resounded in my ears, louder than the music of the flutists or the din of merriment. His guests now partook of fresh meat from a hunt which likely occurred on the ride back from London. Hunting was forbidden while he was away. They chewed with open mouths while their goblets overflowed with drink, and their red lips glistened with animal fat. In the past few years, Lord Karles had grown portly and slothful. His long neck, set over a round frame, gave him a peculiar, beast-like appearance. In any case, his once powerful warrior frame was now a thing of the past.

"My lord," I said, bowing deeply.

At first, he continued feasting with no acknowledgment of my presence. Nonetheless, I was prepared for this treatment, as well as for the wrath sure to follow. As long as it earned my wife's safety, I would stand quietly and bear all form of punishment.

The minutes passed. The flutists played, the nobles laughed, ate, and drank while I waited. A servant walked in and approached Lord Karles, whispering into his ear. The baron nodded and waved the servant away. Finally, Lord Karles set down his large hunk of meat and set his gaze on me. The rest of his noblemen followed suit.

"Ah, Sir Edward, I see you have decided to join us."

"Aye, my lord, by your leave. I trust your time in London went well and that the king is in good health and spirits."

"The king is hale and hearty. I will pass along your regards when I see him next. As a matter of fact, it was as I sat council with him that I was delivered the most…interesting news – that you and my daughter were wed. I suppose this was why you could not join us for this session." He spoke with a softness which belied his previous disapproval.

I nodded and responded with similar equanimity. "Yes, my lord. I regret the need to disobey my liege, but in this matter, I could do nothing but obey my heart as master."

"Aye, matters of the heart often lead us astray, do they not?" He grinned.

"I do not know that I would qualify my marriage as _astray_ , my lord, but it is true that the heart cannot always be overcome."

His features hardened, yet the grin remained in place. His eyes, in some ways similar to those of his daughter, were devoid of the warmth in hers. Instead, his were cold as ice and dark as an abyss. He gestured toward a chair left empty before him at the large, wooden table.

"Pray, take a seat, Sir Edward, and enjoy the fruit of our hunt."

"With all due respect, my lord, I am not-"

"Sit," he commanded in a hiss.

The room went suddenly still. The musicians set down their instruments, and the nobles stopped eating. All the while, I reminded myself that the aim here was not to prove my actions correct and Lord Karles' decree incorrect, but rather to convince him that my marriage to his daughter could still work in his favor.

Slowly, I took the seat opposite him. I gave my thanks in his Norman tongue. _"_ Gramercy."

"There." He grinned again, snapping his fingers toward a group of servants. "Serve our young knight meat and mead."

The music resumed. While one servant poured me a goblet, another placed a plateful of fresh meat before me. Lord Karles and the rest of the nobles returned to their meals, chewing audibly and lustily.

"Sir Edward, I have some people with whom I wish to acquaint you."

Without pausing in his ravenous consumption, he waved a hand toward the man on his right. He was an unremarkable nobleman, of about eight and twenty years, who appeared of average height and build with dark hair and eyes black as coal. I recognized him from two years earlier when he attended a tournament held in honor of Bellaria's sixteenth birthday.

It was at this tournament, while Emmot and I rough-housed in preparation for the joust, that I noticed Emmot's young sister's eyes continuously straying toward us. I also noted that she appeared more woman than child that morn. Her red velvet tunic hugged full breasts I would have sworn on my sword were not there the day before. Her hair appeared as dark spun silk from the East, the braids like jewels crowning her noble head. And her fawn-colored eyes no longer held the sort of infantile mischief better confined to a nursery; rather, they held a hint of mischief I was suddenly eager to explore. When Emmot and I mounted our horses, she blew her brother a kiss…and tied her kerchief around my lance. Emmot laughed good-naturedly, even after I dismounted him. And Bellaria bestowed on me a smile so glorious I was sure the angels above must have chanted in harmonious chorus to witness it.

That day, I was a knight of two and twenty years, in my physical prime, and armored to the hilt. Yet I was struck with a force of love so powerful, it left me breathless.

That was also the day I bested the black-eyed lord now before me.

"This is Lord Jakob - my cousin, our neighbor, and up until four months ago, my daughter's intended."

I met the nobleman's murderous glare head on. "Lord Jakob, we have met." _With you at the losing end of my lance._

" _Sir_ Edward," the man sneered.

Next, Lord Karles waved a hand to the man on his left, a tall and well-built man in about his early thirties with light hair and eyes so blue they appeared as if lit from within. "This is Lord Giraut, a good friend of mine visiting from Normandy."

"My lord," I said with another bob of my head. He inclined his head as well but said not a word.

"I am not sure if you know this, my young Sir Edward," Lord Karles said casually, "but Lord Jakob's fiefdom, which borders our own, extends halfway to London. The land is rich and fertile. If joined with our own lands, both fiefdoms would create a small kingdom in and of itself. Ever since her childhood, Bellaria has known it her duty to marry Lord Jakob in her eighteenth year. Today was to be the announcement of their betrothal. In fact, Lord Giraut traveled all this distance in anticipation of a wedding and the festivities which were to follow."

"We fell in love," I said plainly.

He continued gluttoning on his meat. "Cousin, how much do you know of our young Sir Edward?"

"Very little, my lord," Lord Jakob seethed.

"Very little?" Lord Karles laughed. "Come, cousin, it must be your envy speaking, for he has been our finest knight nigh on six years! But I shall tell you more if you wish. Edward the mason was an Anglo highly skilled in masonry. In return for his fine work on our castle, he was rewarded with a decent-sized parcel of land within our walls. When Edward the mason was killed in a construction accident, I pitied his young son, then twelve, who like my Bellaria was left motherless at birth. Therefore, I brought him to live in the castle. Soon, young Edward, son of the mason displayed such strength and agility that I thought it a waste for him to continue in his father's trade, and I had him trained as a squire instead. His skills in battle were such that only my own son, Emmot, ever paralleled them. Despite his low birth, young Edward earned his knighthood on the field, with blood and scars as badges of honor, and I dubbed him so. Now, at the ripe age of four and twenty, he is my ablest warrior. He has inherited his father's land within the walls, which of course, is truly my land, for _everything_ belongs to me. Yet for all I have done for Sir Edward, for all my encouragement of his strength and bravery, he is still quite unfamiliar with the concept of loyalty."

"I _am_ loyal, my lord. Bellaria and I fell in love."

"He seduced Bellaria-"

"'Twas not seduction. 'Twas love."

"-right inside my castle. When he sought her hand, I denied it, for an Anglo peasant is an Anglo peasant no matter to what rank he rises, and I would never bind my noble daughter to one."

"You would bind her to a man she did not want. She is a person, not a pawn."

"She is a woman. Her wants do not signify, and you swore allegiance to our family."

"Her wants signify to _me_ , and I swore allegiance to _you_ , my lord, not to him."

Lord Karles banged his fat fist against the wooden table, causing it to bounce on its legs. "It is _me_ you have betrayed!"

"Nay, my lord." I spoke as evenly as possible. "I have not betrayed you, for I love your daughter. I adore her, and I will serve and offer you my eternal allegiance through her. You single me out as your finest knight and your strongest warrior. It was a title I once shared proudly with your son, Lord Emmot, whom I loved as kin. And though I am not your kin by blood, I will fight for you as if I am. I will fight for you and our king until my dying breath. My abilities up until now have been nothing compared to how I will serve you with Bellaria as wife. _She_ will make me invincible, and that can only benefit you, my lord. Our sons will have my strength; our daughters will have her wit. You may acknowledge them or pass them over as heirs in favor of Lord Jakob; that is your choice, and neither Bellaria nor I will ever contest it. Either way, you will have their allegiance."

Lord Karles licked the grease off his fingers. "Do you deem this offer to be above that which Bellaria's marriage to my cousin would have yielded?"

"Can _he_ offer you such strength and devotion? Can _he_ swear to you that with Bellaria by his side, he will never stray nor disregard his loyalty to you in favor of a stronger baron with a larger fiefdom? I will swear it in blood. No man could ever offer you what I can because no man could ever love her as I do – with all my heart and soul."

For a long, interminable moment, the baron simply studied me. Out of my periphery, I saw Lord Jakob's hate-filled gaze, but I did not acknowledge it.

"It all comes back to matters of the heart, does it not, my young knight?"

"Indeed, it does, my lord," I nodded slowly.

"The heart...loyalty…blood, you have spoken of all three. Now let us test their ties."

With those words, Lord Karles gestured toward the doors sealing off the great hall. When the guards pulled open the heavy frames, Bellaria was dragged in.

"Edward!"

She screamed and kicked her legs, struggling to free herself from the guards who held her bound. Behind her, Jasper, my apprentice was pushed in. His face was bloodied and bruised, and as I watched, a blow was delivered to his stomach with the hilt of a sword while he fought to free himself from his captors.

"My lord! My lord, they arrived under cover of darkness, in numbers and with swords drawn! They have slain the rest! Forgive me, my lord, for failing to defend my lady!"

As he shouted his regrets, my mind attempted to make sense of both his words and of the heinous sight before me.

"Bellaria!"

Her name erupted from between my lips in part growl and part horror. In one motion, I lunged from the table and reached for my sword, but my hand came up empty.

As the guards rushed me, I smashed one in the face with my elbow and then another. I fisted the grill of another's helmet and rammed my knee into his groin, simultaneously relieving him of his sword before kicking him backward and into two more behind him. Swinging the sword, I slashed through the weak chinks in the chain mail of all three, slicing through their intestines. When the first two returned for me, I took their arms.

Many more I slew, but Lord Karles' guards fought together with those of Lord Jakob, and there were too many against one. They felled me in unison, disarming me and pushing my face into the cold stone of the castle's floor. Their knees dug into my spine while over a dozen arms and legs held me prone.

"No! No! Release her!" I howled as I struggled. "Release my wife!"

"Edward!" Bellaria cried. "I pray you all, do not harm him!" The sound of her pleas was like a lance speared through my heart and soul. "Edward!"

"Release her, or I will kill you all like animals! Let her go!"

I struggled in vain, for the harder I fought, the more were called to subdue me. Lifting my head, the only unbound part of my body, I watched them restrain my beautiful Bellaria while I thrashed like a beast in impotent savagery. They wrapped their filthy hands around her noble arms like manacles around a thief.

"Edward!"

"By my troth, I will cut off every single one of your COCKS AND FEED THEM TO THE PIGS! RELEASE MY WIFE!"

Beside her, Jasper received a fiery beating, but it could not signify while my wife was constrained. Blinded by fury, I failed to note Lord Karles' presence until he was standing between my wife and I. He crouched low, his expression as serene as if he were watching the sun set behind the rolling hills.

"Do not distress yourself, Edward, son of the mason. You are unquestionably strong, yes, but you and your thirty men could not possibly match two armies combined. Do you see why your offer fails to be the better one? Now, there is no need for more bloodshed. I will release Bellaria as soon as you vow to renounce her. On her heart and soul, vow to me that you will renounce her as wife, as lover, and as any sort of companion, so that she may be free to marry Lord Jakob. Renounce her, and I will forgive your shared duplicity. It is as simple as that."

"Edward, no!"

"You bastard, I will not!" I bellowed. When I tried to lunge for him, a medley of armored knees drove like spades into my back, chasing every last breath out of my lungs.

"No, Father!" Bellaria screamed. "I will _never_ renounce my husband! I love him!"

"Love?" Lord Karles snorted derisively, shaking his head. "Ah, my daughter, you are young and naïve, but I shall open your eyes. Bring in Lady Cateline."

As I continued the struggle to free myself so that I could free my wife, the doors to the hall opened once more. In walked a noblewoman of lower birth than Bellaria, who up until our marriage, was my wife's lady-in-waiting and friend. Yet unlike my wife, Lady Cateline was not dragged in kicking, screaming, bound or confined in any way. She stopped when instructed, head bowed low. Nonetheless, I saw the tears which spilled over the stone floor and the terror in the way her body quivered.

"Sir Edward, as you know, Lady Cateline is a distant kin to me. She is a fair, young woman possessing a noble bloodline, with long flaxen hair, full breasts, and hips capable of carrying many fine, strong sons. But perhaps I need not laud her virtues to you, for I am told you have sampled them, have you not?"

"I have _not_. We are friends and nothing more!" I growled through clenched teeth.

"I am also told that a se'n night ago, _after_ you were wed to my daughter, you were found behind the horse stables with your cock in Lady Cateline's mouth."

"That is a LIE!" I roared. "She was Bellaria's lady-in-waiting and friend to us both, nothing more! Cateline, speak!"

Lady Cateline cried silently, her shoulders shaking with her muffled sobs, but at no moment did she refute the baron's claims. Instead, from where I lay on the ground, I saw her mouth move around inaudible words, a prayer seemingly only for herself.

"They are lies, Father," Bellaria hissed. "I know what you attempt with your cruel lies, and it will not work. You will not shake my faith in my husband."

Lord Karles went on serenely. "Consider here carefully, Sir Edward. Even as Bellaria's lady-in-waiting, Cateline is still a noblewoman far above any expectations your father could have ever entertained for you while he lived. But you may have her. You may have her and in doing so, have this entire mess forgotten."

"I do not want her! I am married to Bellaria, and it is Bellaria I love!"

"We were married before God!" my wife added.

"Before God, you say?" He spoke to her, but his dark gaze remained on me. "Send in the priest."

Through a hazy fog of disbelief, I watched the castle priest meekly walk into the great hall and past the gathered crowd, who simply sat or stood by watching and waiting.

"Father Michel, four months ago, while I was away in London, you married my daughter to this traitor in the castle abbey. Now we wish to annul the marriage."

"For Christ's love," I choked. "You cannot do this!"

"No!" My wife hollered at the top of her lungs, fighting in vain to free herself. "I will not agree to it!"

"Father Michel, what need we to accomplish the annulment?"

The priest stuttered through his response. "You need…you…I need an assurance that the union was never consummated."

"We have consummated the marriage!" my wife screeched defiantly. "We have consummated it repeatedly and in every manner imaginable!"

Ignoring her, Lord Karles pressed the priest. "Father Michel, as lord of this castle and fiefdom, you have my assurance that their union has not been consummated. Now pronounce it annulled."

The priest swallowed. "I…If you wish it annulled, my lord, then…it is so."

" _Nooo!"_ my wife screamed.

"NO! No, you cannot! She is my wife!" I howled. "She is _mine_ for eternity! You can command your godforsaken priest to say and do what he will, but she will always be my wife! Neither of you possesses the power to separate what God has joined!"

Lord Karles turned around quickly and drove his heavy boot into my face. Bellaria screamed again as blood filled my vision, pooled within my mouth and nose, and then threatened to choke me. He crouched before me once more, fisting my hair in his beefy, greasy hand, yanking it until spots of light danced before my eyes.

" _I_ possess the power to do all!" he spat through clenched teeth, his spittle spraying and mixing with my blood. "You swore allegiance, yet you went behind my back and disregarded my wishes, and not only as regards my daughter! I know how you and my son helped and fed the peasants with the hunt from _my_ forests! His misplaced beneficence ended with him at the losing end of a boar's tusks, yet you continue the pointless acts of charity! You disgust me, you Anglo maggot! Did you truly believe I would allow this? Did you see yourself as lord of this fiefdom along with your bastards as heirs? Did you believe I would allow you to soil my noble bloodline whilst you use my daughter as your whore?"

"She is my _wife_ , not my whore!"

"She is _mine_ to do with as I wish! She is mine to use to increase my wealth and power! If I say she is your wife no more, then she is your wife no more! If I say she is still maiden, then maiden she is still! If I give her to Lord Jakob-"

"You cannot give me to Lord Jakob, for I am with child!"

Every remaining particle of air escaped the room in a rush, taking with it all sound and sense. No one moved. No one spoke.

"I am with child," Bellaria repeated through tears. Then she looked at me and smiled, her dark eyes sparkling. Despite everything, that moment was the happiest of my life. "I am with child, Edward - our child."

"Bellaria…" I choked. "We will have a child."

"No, you will not."

Lord Karles pulled out his dagger, and I waited for him to slice me and make my wife widow. Instead, he stood and lunged for Bellaria, slashing her throat from end to end and freezing her features in a smile distorted by the blood, which rushed from her long gash. The crimson fluid dripped onto the floor like dark wine spilling from one of her father's goblets.

Somewhere, a woman's scream was quickly silenced.

I prayed for madness. I begged any being from above or below to steal away my senses, for I could not exist with the knowledge of what my eyes beheld. I could not live with the image of my wife's knees buckling as she crumbled to the cold, hard stone ground like a marionette without a puppeteer. My wife…the mother of my child.

"Release him," Lord Karles ordered sedately.

On hands and knees I crawled, slipping on her warm, thick blood. When I slid my arms under her and cradled her body against mine, she looked up at me through dull, glazed eyes - eyes once so dark and expressive.

"You did this to her, Sir Edward. When you took her as wife, you sealed your fate. When she refused to renounce you, she sealed her own. Her blood is on your hands, not mine."

"I am sorry," I sobbed, palming and staining her smooth, pale cheek. "I am sorry, my Bellaria."

She opened her mouth, but only blood poured forth.

"Wait for me, my wife." My words were garbled by the tears streaming down my face, yet I prayed she understood. "Wait for me as you promised - as always…for always. I will find you, Bellaria, wherever you go, and we will be together for eternity."

A small smile spread across her ensanguined mouth as her eyelids fluttered closed, and…she left this world.

For a long while, there was naught but silence in the great hall. Then sounds erupted which were not human, wails of agony so torturous they were like a thousand arrows to the soul. Rocking my wife in my arms, I did not immediately realize they were emitted by me. I threw back my head and cursed the heavens.

The guards did not expect it. I moved so swiftly that one was not able to defend his sword, and I unsheathed it, swinging in an arc and beheading him. Limbs quaking, I sliced through the air, taking various limbs with me in my search for Lord Karles' head. But grief toyed with my aim, and as he shifted, I took his right hand instead - the hand with which he murdered my beloved wife and our unborn child…his daughter and his grandchild. Screaming like a maiden, he fell to his knees and grabbed his bloodied stump.

In the confusion, Jasper freed himself and secured a weapon, cutting through two more guards before a sword ran him through from lungs to heart. Jasper of the white locks fell to his knees, crumbling to the ground as my wife did. The remaining guards surrounded me, the sharp tips of their swords all aimed at my now empty chest.

"Forgive my failure, my lord…Edward," Jasper pleaded with his last breaths.

"I dub thee, Lord Jasper, my truest knight."

When his eyes closed, I turned away from him and toward the rest.

"Mark me well, all in this room: God's teeth upon you, for in this life or the next, you will all pay for this evil - from the faithless priest to the simplest flute players to you, Lord Karles, the high-necked fowl." I swiped my blood-soaked hand across my face and cheeks, mixing it with my own blood, then down my neck and over my breast while those in attendance inhaled sharply. "I am no longer bound by man or god. _Her_ blood will be my strength, and my soul will not rest until I finish all of you. That, my lord, is a vow I will _not_ break."

Lord Karles did not cease whimpering and moaning on his knees like a whore, cradling his bloody stump to his fat chest. When I sliced off my right hand, the people convulsed in an uproar.

"My right hand is now gone in every way, as is yours. Either face me like a man on even ground or give the command to kill me, for I cannot live this life long without her."

"I will give the command, Sir Edward," he breathed raggedly. "I will give the command. Kill him."

I did not feel the multiple blades plunging into me as a physical pain - more like relief. It spread and intensified with every consecutive thrust, for soon I would be with my wife. With only vague awareness remaining, I was hefted up and carried out of the castle. In the dark of night, while the full moon's many eyes kept watch, they threw me into a horse-drawn cart and deposited me in a pit far beyond the walls. There I was left for the woodland beasts to feed on me like carrion.

As I lay dying, I recalled her screams, her pleading, her defiant cries. They grew louder and louder in my head, sharpened in their emotion, so fiery they burned through me like hot pokers staked through my heart. They continued on and on until I wondered and then begged for their end. I began to doubt I would ever meet with her. I believed the unimaginable agony in my head and chest would never cease. The excruciating burn within my soul would never recede.

It took me time to realize that the painful howls were not memories of her...but cries from me for mercy. It took me time to see that the jagged holes left in me were no more and that my right hand was no longer missing. It took me time to see that I was no longer in the wooded forest, and both Jasper…and Emmot, were uninjured and beside me.

It took me time to realize all these things because the first thing I felt as I awoke….my first instinct…my most immediate need….

…was to quench the ravenous thirst growing like a voracious leach deep within my throat.

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **So when I said dark…**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook: Stories by PattyRose**

 **See you guys next Monday. Enjoy the rest of your Halloween.**


	3. Chapter 3 The Stuff of Legend

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your wonderful thoughts. I surprised most of you, didn't I? Well, here's another surprise: I'm updating a bit early because I won't be around much of next week (Good things, don't worry). It's Monday already somewhere, isn't it? Here you go. :)**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes (although, I make changes up to the very end, so any remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

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 **Chapter 3 – The Stuff of Legend**

An image of a young and handsome Richard Gere sporting shiny chain mail and locked in a passionate kiss with a Rapunzel-haired Julia Ormond flashed across the lecture hall's large white board. At my sides, my hands curled and uncurled, displaying my nerves to myself if to no one else. Before anyone could actually catch on, I forced them open and still. Then with a deep breath, I began.

"Guinevere, the beautiful queen of Camelot fell in love with Sir Lancelot, the most infamous of the brave Knights of the Round Table, thus betraying her husband, King Arthur. Their legendary love affair set off a chain of events which ended the exalted reign of the mythical kingdom."

I camouflaged the next deep breath by returning to my laptop and switching to the next image, this one a Netflix promotional still of a man in muddy green tights gazing into the doe eyes of a lovely, braid-haired maiden.

"Robin Hood stole from the rich nobles to give to the poor peasants before falling in love with Maid Marian, who was promised to the evil Sheriff of Nottingham. Robin's love for Marian ended up costing him much more than he ever imagined."

Again, I changed the image.

"Then there's the slightly less fictitious yet just as fiery love story between handsome King Edward the Fourth and Elizabeth Woodville, a widowed mother of two. Their eventual marriage shook up an entire kingdom, leading to the legendary War of the Roses and to mayhem within the royal court, including murderous plots against the two lovers and their offspring."

Leaving that image of the made-for-cable TV series up on the screen, I turned back to the almost-to-capacity-filled room.

"These are just a few of the romantic legends which arose from the era of European history known as the medieval period, or the Middle Ages, a time spanning approximately ten centuries, from the fifth century to the fifteenth. This thousand-year period is further divided into the early, high, and late Middle Ages. Now besides romances, what else do we think of when we discuss the Middle Ages?"

"Castles."

"Yes. With the invasion of England in the year 1066 by William the Conqueror and his Norman nobles, many castles were built both to keep people safely within as well as to keep peasants and other undesirables from the protection of the castle walls. We'll discuss the castles of medieval England in further detail during the quarter. What else?"

"A system of feudalism."

"Yes," I said, excitement for the topic building as it usually did and displacing the nerves in my stomach. I could discuss the Middle Ages twenty-four hours a day and never grow tired of it. "The Norman conquerors established a strong system of feudalism and distinction by class in medieval England, where moving from one stratum to another was extremely difficult, if not impossible. Feudalism lasted for many centuries, and its effects are still felt today. That'll be a _major_ topic in this lecture hall. Good job. What else?"

"Hot knights-in-shining-armor with long, powerful swords."

Salacious giggling erupted from a group of girls sitting in one of the middle rows. Their stupid, high-school level answer clued me in on what to expect – and what not to expect – from them for the rest of the spring quarter.

"I suppose some of the knights may have been handsome, but despite what Hollywood would like you to believe, if they were any sort of warriors, they likely bore more than a handful of scars from battle. And what's more, their armor probably wasn't all that shiny; more like stained with the blood and gore of whoever their liege lord considered the enemy at the time. Either way, our discussion on the importance of knights in Feudal England won't focus on their looks or on the length and might of their swords."

It was obviously time to dispel with Tinseltown's glorified depiction of the Middle Ages. As I flickered through the rest of my PowerPoint presentation, quiet gasps filtered throughout the huge, dark classroom. Mounted knights impaled unarmed peasants, their swords dripping thick and crimson while a black and white image displayed a row of men hanging from nooses, their terror captured on starving, emaciated faces. Yet another image presented a lone female commoner, her mouth wide open in a horror-filled scream, her skirts up over her thighs while a well-dressed nobleman held her prone against him.

Silence lorded over the lecture hall. With more realistic representation now before them, only an occasional cough or an uncomfortable throat clearing resounded through the room full of one hundred plus undergraduate students. And now that I had their full attention, I plunged right into it.

"The Middle Ages have been immortalized by poets and writers such as Chrétien de Troyes, Howard Pyle, and of course, Shakespeare, as a period ripe with romance and heroism." I moved around the room in what was meant to be a confident, even strut. As I spoke, I made eye contact with as many individual students as possible. "Their tales are replete with heroes in the form of the aforementioned knights-in-shining-armor, and in the case of Disney, jam-packed with magical happily-ever-afters, where good triumphs over evil so completely that amusement parks overflowing with haggard tourists and cheap merchandise must be erected in their honor."

I paused for dramatic effect. "However…it's probably truer to declare the Middle Ages a period characterized by rampant cruelty, by shortened life spans resulting from either disease or a stronger army's sword, by oppression of the masses, by a lack of basic human rights, by a non-existent regard for women as anything more than pawns or vessels in the production of heirs…and by a time when bathing and dental hygiene were extremely foreign concepts."

The lecture hall erupted in raucous laughter, and I chuckled along with them, surreptitiously drawing in a few uneven breaths of relief in the process. The moment went exactly as I'd hoped for this: my first session as professor of undergraduate studies on Feudal Societies in Medieval England. Maybe now, I could relax a bit for the rest of the hour-and-fifteen-minute lecture.

A hand shot up from one of the very back rows in the large, auditorium-like class, and a strong yet smooth voice spoke up from the darkness.

"It was a period of hardship, yes, but…perhaps it's not completely accurate to state that it was a period devoid of love or that regard for women beyond their ability to give birth and further political ambition was entirely non-existent."

My pulse accelerated, rushing like a flood through my veins. But I smiled through the sudden internal agitation and into the external darkness surrounding the speaker of the contradictory opinion.

"Perhaps it wasn't _completely_ void of romance or respect for the female sex, but I doubt the type of all-encompassing, everlasting love those stories attempt to portray was possible during a time of so much strife when most people's main concern was simply surviving past the age of thirty."

Hoping that the shadowed pupil wouldn't feel rebuked or embarrassed by my opposing - and honestly, better informed - view, I attempted an easy grin. After all, I was the instructor with a doctorate on the subject matter. The student was merely…a student.

The student's responding grin displayed a set of teeth which were almost blindingly white in the dim lighting.

"Perhaps it wasn't."

Our gazes remained locked for a heartbeat longer than necessary before I managed to sever the link. In the shaded obscurity of the large lecture hall, the student's eyes were so brilliant they practically glowed in the dark. Teeth and eyes – that's all I saw. It was disconcerting.

"Where was I?" Inwardly shaking off the abrupt sense of disorientation, I tried to pick up where I left off, but I'd lost my place. "Let's uhm…let's just move on. This morning, I'd like to go over the requirements in the syl-"

"Yet something must have given rise to those stories. Wouldn't you agree, Doctor Cullen?"

When my hands threatened to curl at my sides, I linked them behind my back the way I'd sworn to myself I wouldn't. Then drawing in a deep breath, I returned my attention to the shade-veiled student.

"My father is also _Doctor Cullen_ ," I smiled. "Therefore, it sounds strange to my ears to be addressed that way. It may be a bit unconventional, but I'd prefer it if everyone just called me Bella."

"Alright…Bella."

Again, I found it difficult to break eye contact with him. But I forced myself to blink away and hurried back to my desk to study the roll call sheet. "And you are Mr.…?"

"Masen. Edward Masen. But please…Bella _,_ call me Edward."

As I looked up and scanned the darkness, I pressed my lips together tightly for a few reasons. First, the _Bond, James Bond_ manner in which he stated his name sent a sudden and unexpected jolt of nerves bubbling up my throat. They threatened to expel themselves as misplaced laughter, but thankfully, I was able to clamp down on them before they caused any mutual embarrassment. Then there was the strangely intense way in which he kept saying my name as if I'd given him leave to utter the name of a forbidden deity. Third and most disturbing was my own strangely visceral reaction to _his_ name, with a racing heart and sweaty palms, as if _he'd_ just uttered something otherworldly and magnificent – rather than simply one of the oldest names in the English language.

His voice could have been at the heart of the inexplicable mayhem occurring within me. It had an acutely commanding quality as if it belonged at the helm of an army instead of camouflaged by shadows in a university undergrad class. What's more, he sounded older than the rest of the students, more sophisticated in the tone and manner of his speech, more…worldly. More than all that, his voice seemed to seep right into my bones. Perhaps he did just complete a tour of duty and now was here on the G.I. Bill. Maybe he was someone back in college for a second degree.

And why I was spending so much time up in front of my first lecture hall class pondering all these thoughts was beyond me. My eyes widened at the realization, terrified by the possibility that all my waiting students could read my wayward thoughts. But when I scanned the room, no one was watching me with anything other than slight impatience. All those thoughts apparently rushed through my head in a handful of seconds.

Regardless, I couldn't afford the distraction. It was my first class as a college professor, and it was time to refocus – not an easy thing when Mr. Masen's eyes continued holding mine as if he was trying to peer right through me.

"Mr. Masen…Ed-ward," I said, tripping over his name, "those stories come from the wonderful and creative imaginations of some of the best thinkers of the past millennia. To create such beauty out of such a dark period in history," I sighed in irrepressible wonder, "only the most inventive minds-"

"But inventions come from somewhere, Bella, don't they? There is something which first sparks them, something which wakes the imagination - some basis for the original thought."

"I agree, but-"

"Take the story of King Arthur, Lancelot, and Guinevere as an example. Perhaps their story has roots in a true tale which occurred…let's say four centuries earlier - for argument's sake. Perhaps a young knight once fell in love with a young, beautiful, and intelligent noblewoman, and a king…or a lord who thought himself king opposed the match." He paused and swallowed, clearing his throat as if something was suddenly lodged within it. "And perhaps in another version of this same knight's tale, Robin Hood, a young man secretly assisting those of the lower class, was sidetracked from this purpose by his love for Marian, and when he fell in love with her, nothing else mattered."

"And what about King Edward the Fourth and Elizabeth Woodville?" I quirked a brow in challenge. "Do you propose they never existed and that their story is just another variation of the tale regarding this specific knight and his star-crossed love?"

"No, they existed." He said this with a profound certainty as if he could personally vouch for them. "But perhaps Shakespeare's inspiration for the perils of King Edward and his wife wasn't so much due to their own experiences as much as due to the experiences of those two lovers who lived, loved…and lost long before them. Perhaps more than one of Mr. Shakespeare's tragedies drew its dark inspiration from these two lovers. Perhaps the knight's love was so all-consuming, so everlasting, so…faithful in its devotion, that it has inspired tales passed down from generation to generation – even if those generations have forgotten the original legend and its darker aspects."

I snorted cynically. "So now you claim this knight is the stuff of legend?"

Mr. Masen's…Edward's mouth curved into a crooked grin. "Bella, I never claimed _him_ as the stuff of legend. I proposed his love is."

My breath hitched quietly. "You speak as if you knew this unfortunate knight personally."

He chuckled softly, yet the sound reverberated throughout the entire hall. "If I knew him, that would make me almost one thousand years old, wouldn't it?"

Quiet snickers erupted from small pockets all around the lecture hall.

"You sure don't look a thousand years old to me. _Mm, mm_."

The idiot girls in the middle row cackled at their idiot friend's comment, and the snickers morphed into raucous laughter. Blood rushed to my face, and as I stood there, mortified by my inability to control the class, I had half a mind to ask _Mr. Masen_ to leave my damn lecture hall if he was going to waste my time with ridiculously fictitious stories.

Yet despite all the laughter, Edward Masen himself wasn't amused. Instead, his crooked grin quickly faded, and his bright green eyes took on a look of alarm.

" _Bella_ , I apologize profusely for disrupting your class with my misplaced musings. All which I just said was simple speculation, and I meant no disrespect. It was never my intention to contradict you."

"Of course," I responded coolly.

"However…I would just like to add one more thing, if I may: I do believe there may have been those within both the noble and common classes who did bother to bathe and brush their teeth daily. Now please, continue."

"Well, I'd hate to think we would've left here today with misconceptions on medieval dental hygiene on top of everything else, so _thank you_ for clearing that up." The sardonic smile I offered him this time clearly conveyed my ire. "However, whether or not that knight existed, as I stated before, lovesick knights and their heartbreaking love stories won't be the focus of this lecture hall."

"Of course not. Once again, I deeply apologize." His tone was full of submission, so contrite yet so misplaced in that commanding voice. And abruptly, I felt like the shittiest college professor in history.

 _Come on, Bella; pull it together. He's just a student playing devil's advocate._

"That's fine, Ed-ward, but yes, let's remain on topic from now on. The class size is pretty large and the allotted time is quite short."

"Yes, Bella. You're right, of course."

And as I pushed forward with my planned lesson, I prayed no one, least of all Mr. Edward Masen, noticed the way my voice shook.

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook Group: Stories by PattyRose**

 **See you guys next Monday!**


	4. Chapter 4 - Anamnesis

**A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts. If I didn't get back to you after the last chapter, I apologize, but please know that I've read and appreciated all your comments. :)**

 **I just want to make it clear that I can't find Michelle's betad version of this chapter! Hah! Nevertheless, if I don't post now, I won't post at all today! I'll update it as soon as I can with the betad version. For now, please forgive all mistakes!**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is all mine.**

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 **Chapter 4 – Anamnesis**

In my opinion, the spring session at the University of Washington was the best session of the year. Not only did it unofficially kick off a countdown to the warmth of early summer, but as a reward for the steady wet weather around most of the state, the Seattle campus' cherry blossom trees simply exploded into bloom. From one day to the next, a combustion of bright pink flora ignited like a fuse against the greenest lawn imaginable. Add to that a backdrop of turn-of-the-century buildings constructed in the French Gothic style, and the campus quad resembled something out of a late medieval fairy tale. Unfortunately, the school no longer subscribed to the earlier architectural style of intricate carvings, cathedral ceilings, arches, and vaults. Instead, the newer buildings now favored the much more modernist appearance obtained from chrome, glass, concrete, etc. It was a character-killing switch.

Or perhaps my penchant for older architecture stemmed from my long-held obsession with medieval Europe and all its associations. My own father constantly badgered me for living in a world that died out long before I was even born. Since about the age of sixteen, the time period consumed me to the point where even my dreams whisked me away to ancient, exotic places I couldn't actually recall upon awakening…but I could still _sense_. It was like catching a whiff of a fragrant, familiar perfume while walking down the street only to have the scent fade with each consecutive step. It was there but not there. From time to time, scents, sights, and sounds I experienced throughout the day would usher the dreams to the forefront of my mind, but never enough to remember the actual dreams, only enough to remember that I _had_ dreamed.

At the moment, I had one foot in the warm present and one in the dark past, sitting under a cherry blossom tree in the middle of the campus quad and immersed in my lesson plan for the day. I was reviewing, revising, and editing it all on my laptop before class. As a new member of the university faculty, I still had a lot to prove. To some, four years of undergrad majoring in Sociology and then four post-grad years specializing in the English feudal era post-Norman conquest was a mouthful, but not the most exciting field track. I was fortunate that as a requisite toward sociology-related majors in this university, my class was both popular and necessary.

Biting into my apple, I typed one-handed as I thought of yet another point I wanted to bring up at the lecture hall in about an hour. I was so lost in my work that when a throat cleared and a deep, baritone voice cut through my reverie, I looked up in surprise.

"Good morning, Bella. How are you today?"

A ray of mid-morning sun sliced through the cherry blossom tree's branches and hid the face from view. Regardless, I may as well have heard that voice a thousand and one times instead of just the once in class two days earlier. Like the aforementioned senses of recollection after a dream, the sound of his voice caused a momentary flash of…remembrance. And just as on that day in class, my pulse quickened in my veins, the blood flowing urgently as if commanded into stimulation by the mere act of his speaking.

Lifting my hand from the keyboard, I used it as a makeshift visor, stifling a gasp when the sun shifted behind a cloud, and its brightness was eclipsed by breathtakingly green eyes framed within a ruggedly strong and masculine face.

Never the type of woman to fawn over a man's physical appearance, I absolutely abhorred myself for that mental description.

"Ed-ward." It wasn't a particularly complicated name pronunciation-wise nor was it novel to either my ears or mouth. Yet once again, I stammered over it and plunged ahead, hoping I was the only one to notice. "I'm good this morning, thanks. And you?"

"I'm well, thank you, Bella." When he smiled, again showcasing a brilliant set of teeth, my breath quietly hitched, and once again, I internally cursed myself. "I just wanted to apologize once more for my rudeness the other day. I didn't mean to upset you or to throw off your well-planned lesson."

Despite the uproar occurring within me, I returned his smile as evenly as possible. "Please, don't apologize. _I_ should apologize for practically biting off your head when all you did was make a few comments and actually participate."

"No, please, don't even think of apologizing to me. I shouldn't have gone off on an unrelated tangent and derailed your thoughts. It was selfish and thoughtless of me."

Despite the avowed remorse, which really did appear heartfelt, there was a strange excitement in both his tone and demeanor. I wasn't sure if his voice was actually quivering or if it was my own trembling which made it sound that way. I prepared myself before attempting his name again.

"Edward, it was my very first class. I had every word, every pause, every question, and every answer rehearsed and ready. Everything was planned to specifications which, in hindsight, were most likely just _a tad bit too exact_." When I pinched together two fingers, he chuckled, the sound as deep and magnetic as the other day. "So yes, you threw me off, but only because I was probably wound a bit too tight in the first place, and when you raised a topic of which I knew nothing, you unraveled me."

At this, he threw back his head and let out a hearty laugh which tickled the cherry blossoms above us and made them flutter in the breeze like giggling schoolgirls. It did strange things to me as well.

He sighed. "I assure you, Bella, unraveling you that way was not my intention, and once more, I apologize. In the future, I'll take care with the topics I raise during class."

"No, no." I shook my head. "Please don't. That would be the exact opposite of what I'd like to accomplish in that classroom. A lecture hall, despite the name, shouldn't simply be for lecturing. It should be a place for sharing ideas and exploring all matter of subjects in any way related to the lesson, and _I_ apologize for trying to limit you the other day. The mind is a wonderfully complex and ever-expanding organ. Please don't allow my inexperience to limit yours or else I'll have already failed, and we've only had one class."

" _You_ could never limit my mind. Don't ever consider yourself a failure. You're an extraordinarily unique and intelligent woman, and the fact that you've come this far is…amazing."

After his vehement and bewildering declaration, he let out a long breath, and I stared agape for one long moment.

"Well." I cleared my throat and forced a smile. "Thank you…for that vote of confidence."

His responding chuckle held more than a hint of awkwardness as if he'd realized his overstressed fervor. "There was a time, Bella, when a female professor in a university was considered an impossibility."

I lifted a brow. "Yes, Mr. Masen, but we're only learning about the Middle Ages, not living in them."

"No." He snorted, the awkwardness in his demeanor now converted to amusement. "No, I don't suppose we are."

For the next few seconds, he stood over me silently, yet it seemed as if there was more he wanted to say. His impressive height cast a long, lean shadow; the black tee-shirt he wore and the faded slim jeans outlining a strong, sinewy frame. The green of eyes was so bright that it was almost painful to hold his gaze for long, like staring directly at the sun. They were fringed by dark lashes and brows, framed in a face with dark copper stubble a shade lighter than his actual hair. A jagged but thin scar ran along the left side of his angular jaw. It gave strength to my theory that he'd been in the military, and it did nothing to detract from his rough-hewn good looks. He carried a laptop tucked under his arm, and his intense gaze charged the air around us, knotting my stomach.

"Anyway, thanks for the pep talk, but..." I blinked away from his potent stare, closing my own laptop and shoving it into my bag. "…I'm going to head to class. I'd like to get there early to set up. I'll see you there, Ed-ward."

It was meant as a dismissal. His proximity disconcerted me in ways I couldn't even fathom, especially with the inexplicable sensations it awakened. Getting to my knees, I busied myself with organizing my things – my bag, my thick textbooks, and the apple, hoping he'd take the hint and leave.

Instead, he crouched down next to me. "May I help you carry your things?"

"No thanks. I've got it."

With another sigh and obvious reluctance, he straightened up. Adjusting all my items into a comfortable carrying position, I drew in a quiet breath and straightened as well, instinctively releasing a heaving sound as I hoisted everything. Out of my periphery, I saw him grimace painfully and palm the back of his neck.

"Bella, we're headed in the same direction, and where I'm from, a gentleman doesn't allow a lady to carry heavy objects in his presence."

"A gentleman doesn't _allow_?" I pursed my lips, distributing the admittedly significant weight of my books and laptop evenly between my arms.

"I did not mean it that way. Christ's love, times have certainly changed," he observed.

"They sure have. Tell me, where exactly _are_ you from, Mr. Masen – where men still carry a woman's things and speak of _allowing_ in accents from another century? I can't quite place that accent," I frowned. "It sounds part blue blood American and part old English – but definitely not something with which I'm familiar."

"Oh, I believe that if you think hard enough, Bella, you may find that you're _very_ familiar with it."

Again, he extended his arms for my things, but I moved them just out of his reach and began walking. "So where are you from?"

He held my gaze with those piercingly green eyes. "From England originally, but I left my place of birth a long time ago."

"What, like when you were a little kid?"

"When I was five and- when I was twenty-five."

"Oh. Well, that couldn't have been all that long ago," I smiled. "You can't be in more than your late twenties."

He made no answer to that. Instead, he repeated his earlier plea. "Bella, may I _please_ help you lighten your load? I cannot feel at ease with this."

With my own sigh, I handed off my belongings, all of which he hefted as easily as if he was carrying air.

"I suppose chivalry isn't completely dead."

"Not completely dead," he snorted, "no."

For a couple of long minutes, we walked on in an almost eerie silence. Despite the sturdy boots on his feet, his footfalls were as lithe and soundless as I imagined a lion's would be while stalking its prey. My own heels were only slightly muffled by the petals which had fallen off of the cherry blossom trees and now dispersed like clouds under my feet and all over the campus. I avoided the leveled and inedible cherries themselves, some which laid intact, and some which were open and erupted, littering the walkways like a crimson river of blood.

I almost stopped short at the sudden and grotesquely bizarre trigger, the reminder that I'd dreamed something a few hours earlier.

"Are you okay?"

The strange man walking next to me apparently picked up on my momentary lapse.

"Yes." I nodded quickly. "Yes, I'm fine."

Staring straight ahead, I could feel his eyes on me. Devoid of my belongings, my arms fell uselessly at my sides, hands curling and uncurling in their habitual manner when uncomfortable. When I glanced over at Mr. Masen, at…Edward, his eyes followed the movements of my hands.

"Why are you nervous?"

My eyes widened. "Why do you think I'm nervous?"

"I knew someone once," – his Adam's Apple bobbed up and down – "and she did the same when she was uneasy."

"Well, I'm not nervous," I lied, "and who did you-"

"So where are _you_ from originally, Bella?"

I stopped walking, puzzled by all the questions – both his and mine.

"What makes you think I'm not from around here?"

His ensuing smile was soft and bewilderingly wistful. "You have the air of someone who's…ages and ages from where she belongs."

Inexplicably, my chest tightened, yet I forced myself to answer calmly. "I'm from a small town north of here called Forks, Mr. Masen – so no, I'm not so very far from home."

"Perhaps Forks was never where you truly belonged." He proclaimed it quietly, but with a faith that overwhelmed me with its certainty.

Rattled beyond the ability to speak, I turned away from him and started walking again, heart racing as he took up his place next to me, his long legs easily matching my hurried stride.

"Bella, I apologize. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable."

His voice was almost a whisper, yet it was infused with shouted emotion. Nevertheless, I forewent a response; refusing to excuse him this time and unable to shake the feeling that somehow…he knew exactly what he was saying. Despite his earlier assurance to the contrary, unraveling me was exactly his intent.

"Your family…do they still reside in Forks?"

Controlling the urge to curl my hands, I swallowed and raked one through my hair instead. "I have a very small family, Mr. Masen - just my dad. But yes, he's still in Forks."

Again, he gave me a slow nod. "Has he…been a good father to you?"

"What? Yes, but…" The question shocked me for more than its intrusiveness. There was no way he could know how much my father and I always struggled with one another.

"I apologize. That was intrusive," he said.

I stared at him while he stared straight ahead. "Yes, it kind of was. Why don't we turn the tables a bit, Mr. Masen? How about you? Are you alone here in the U.S.?"

"No. I have two cousins here in Seattle."

"Did they come from England with you?"

"Yes."

His answers were all delivered slowly and deliberately.

"Were you in the military here or in England?"

Now it was his turn to seem startled. He stopped in his tracks. "Pardon?"

"I…the scar…" I touched the side of my face, the same side where his scar was. "Because of the scar and because you're a bit older than the rest of the students, I assumed that you served. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed-"

"No. No, you're right." He grinned, his eyes brighter than ever, a strange excitement almost seeping from them. "The scar…" He said it shakily and mostly to himself, then louder and firmer, "Yes, Bella. Yes, I did serve for a while…a very long time ago."

Frowning away from him, I took up our slow pace again. "Mr. Masen, after class the other day-"

"Why do you keep calling me Mr. Masen?"

I blinked, furrowing my brow further. "It's your surname, isn't it?"

"The other day at the beginning of class, you suggested that we forego titles and surnames. Why do you keep returning to mine?"

I side-eyed him, unwilling to meet his gaze again because I was afraid I'd blurt the inexplicable truth: that saying his name made my entire nervous system go haywire.

"Alright then, Ed-ward. After class the other day, I did some digging around on that star-crossed knight you mentioned."

Though his eyes remained front and center, that agitation which appeared to always surround him now rolled off his tall frame in waves. Before replying, he exhaled a long gust of air through narrowed lips.

"I thought you had no interest in learning the story of that _lovesick_ knight."

"I never said I wasn't interested. I said we couldn't dedicate the entire one-hour-and-fifteen-minute session to him."

He swallowed and nodded, eyes still on the path before us. When he spoke, his voice was strangely inflectionless. "May I ask what you found?"

"Absolutely nothing – which doesn't surprise me." I shrugged. "I've studied every period of the Middle Ages for a decade now, especially the high Middle Ages, and I've never come across a legend regarding a knight on which a host of other medieval legends are based."

"So you doubt his existence?" A small smile played across one corner of his mouth.

"There's no proof."

"Isn't there? And may I ask what form your digging took?"

"The internet, of course. It _is_ the twenty-first century, and if it's not on the internet, chances are it never happened."

He gave me a piercing, sidelong glance. "Yes, Bella, it's the twenty-first century, but some stories…some legends are extremely dark, perhaps too dark for the superficiality of the internet, whose main concern is the latest antics of Kim and Kanye."

Again, I stopped short. And again, he stopped at exactly the same moment.

"Your emphasis on how dark the knight's tale may be intrigues me all the more."

"Does it?" He hissed the words, moving in closer and searing me with the acuteness of his gaze. Half of his mouth curved upward as if in a dare, and the brightness of his eyes vanished, darkening like a lunar eclipse. "Yes, Bella, it _is_ an intriguing tale - beautifully poetic in some parts, yet in other parts, it's unspeakably heinous."

Cherry blossom petals floated in the air around us. I stood deathly still, transfixed by both the hypnotically furious tone of his voice and the forbidden allure of such a tale.

"I suppose it would have to be a bit of both to have inspired so many muses," I breathed. "I…Ed…Ed-ward, if I want to achieve tenure someday, I need to publish. And if I could find substantial information on this dark, obscure tale, it would be an invaluable addition to my research, especially if it were all material heretofore undocumented and unpublished."

When he took another step toward me, only the books in his arm remained a barrier between us so that I had to strain my neck upward to hold his fierce eyes.

"Are you sure you want to learn the tale, _Doctor Cullen_?" he asked through a clenched jaw. "Because if you do, I promise you, you'll have to dig a lot deeper than the internet, and you may learn things which _cannot_ be unlearned."

I felt as if was standing on a precipice, and my answer would determine whether I remained safely on the edge of the cliff...or tumbled to the depths below. And as I forced myself to hold his gaze for longer than I'd allowed myself up until then, the rare Seattle sun alighted upon us. With it, I saw something I hadn't seen either in class the other day or in the time we'd spent together so far that morning. Edward Masen's eyes were almost unnaturally bright, yes, but there was an unfathomable darkness to them, an abyss as deep as the cliff of knowledge to which he was leading me.

With an audible and undisguised gasp, I broke away from his gaze. Stepping back and shaking my head to clear it, I rested a quivering hand over my chest, trying to quell its furious pace.

"Tell me."

He took in my reaction with a composure which belied the profoundness in his eyes. "Bella, I'll share as much as I can with you…but it's not a story which can be delved into in the five minutes we have before class begins."

"Oh shit."

Checking my watch, I groaned and instinctively curled the free fingers at my side, no longer caring if Edward read my stress. "Damn it, I lost track of time." When I tried to reclaim my things from him, he took two steps back.

" _I'll_ take your things to the lecture hall."

"No, no. I'll take them."

He shook his head resolutely. "You'll make faster time if you're not weighed down."

"But-"

"Don't _fight_ me, Bella." Despite the strangely familiar and challenging words, he smiled playfully.

And I didn't have the time to argue or ponder. "Alright, but please hurry. I've got to set up my laptop and lesson plan before the rest of the students arrive."

"I will meet you there as soon as possible. I promise you that."

Those words were the most intense trigger I'd ever felt, harking back to more than mere unrecalled dreams, and washing over me like déjà vu. They struck so forcefully that I fought an almost overwhelming urge to break down and cry right then and there. So without another word of question or gratitude, I took off in a sprint toward Bradley Hall, running toward class as much as running from him and cursing internally once again.

Shying away from questions I couldn't answer, I instead busied myself with the current complication before me, that of being late to my own class. Running up the building's steps, I avoided collisions with other students and faculty as I rushed through the hallway. Deciding in a split second that I'd probably lose more time waiting for the elevator, which would likely make every stop before reaching the fourth floor, I took to the stairwell instead, climbing the steps two at a time. When I exited the stairwell, I raced for the lecture hall and yanked the door wide open, causing the knob to slam into the wall next to it.

The clock above the huge classroom read one minute to the hour, and I breathed a sigh of semi-relief. At least I wasn't late. Then I gasped when up on the large screen, I saw the first slide of the day's presentation already on display. On the desk, my laptop lay open and ready, lesson plan journal also opened to today's date, bitten apple resting on a napkin next to it, and my backpack hung neatly from the leather stool seat.

Chest still heaving from the run, I turned toward the tiered seating where most of the students were seated and waiting. Edward's eyes were on his laptop, his fingers moving deftly and swiftly over the keys.

"Uh…okay." I swallowed and took a deep breath. "Good morning, class, and welcome. Let's…let's begin."

OOOOOOOOO

An hour and fifteen minutes later, most of the students filed out of the lecture hall and headed to their next classes. Some, I supposed, headed to jobs. Some would simply hang out for the rest of the day. A few approached me to further discuss one or more of the topics raised that morning, to clarify the grading system, to review the syllabus requirements, or to make appointments for office hours. As the instructor, I gave them each my time and attention. I explained what needed explaining. I smiled, I laughed, and I frowned in all the right places.

The entire time, _his_ presence just at the periphery of my vision consumed me. Meanwhile, he waited for his own turn quietly and seemingly patiently, his laptop burrowed under his arm, leaning against the wall with one booted foot crossed over the other. He didn't shift from side to side. He didn't blow the strands of hair over his forehead off of his face or expel a sigh of restless frustration. He just…stood there. And despite his calm exterior, I knew he vibrated with the same agitation coursing through me.

It was all…so wrong. And I couldn't help feeling that it was dangerous for more than just my newly budding career.

When the last student finally made her way through the doors, Edward pushed himself off of the wall. I walked around the desk and leaned casually against it, gripping the edges tightly to still my hands.

"I guess I should've taken the elevator after all."

He chuckled lowly. "Well, it _is_ known as a faster mode of getting from A to B."

"Yes, well, thank you for setting everything up for me so incredibly quickly. I…I should've been paying more attention to the time. I'm usually much more careful."

And hearing the truth of my own declaration, I fought against the insane pull and turned my back to him instead. As I'd done under the cherry blossom tree, I once more busied myself with gathering everything together. "Have a good day, Mr. Masen."

"I thought you wanted to discuss the knight."

"You know what?" I prayed he couldn't hear the shakiness in my voice. "I can just continue the research on my own. You've warned me it'll take some digging, so digging is what I'll do. If it's a true story, something's bound to turn up. Enjoy the rest of your day."

In the next second, he was behind me, so close that his heated breath fanned across the nape of my neck, tickling its way down the length of my hair and sending it rippling out of the way. Exhaling, I dropped my head and curled my hands around the edges of the desk, rambling through a speech which made neither sense nor difference.

"Mr. Masen…Edward…I…I don't want to give rise to talk or speculation from either the students or the faculty. There's a strict non-fraternization policy in place regarding students and instructors, and if they found out you were helping me with research…I mean, this is my very first teaching job; I have to walk a fine line. Plus, I'd like to earn tenure someday. I've got to make sure I maintain a strictly professional appearance, and…and-"

"Shh," he murmured quietly, and I closed my eyes at the tenderness in the sound, as if he'd known me for years instead of minutes. "Bella, the last thing I want is to make things difficult for you. Just know that…if you have any questions during your…research, I'm here."

"What was his name? The knight…what was his name?"

There was desperation in my voice, bubbling within me, an urgency I couldn't fathom as I held my breath and waited. An entire lifetime transpired before he finally spoke.

"It's not him, Bella. He isn't the one at the center of this tale. It's _her_ , his wife – she's the one you must learn everything about."

My shoulders rose and fell. "What was _her_ name?"

He drew in closer still, his cheek almost brushing mine as his mouth hovered near my ear. When he breathed her name, he caressed every vowel with his lips...he made love to it with his tongue.

"Her name is… _Bellaria."_

The air stopped moving around us. And by the time my muscles finally loosened, and I was able to turn around…he was gone.

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook: Stories by PattyRose**

 **See you guys next Monday!**


	5. Chapter 5 - Like a Moth

**A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts.**

 ****For those who may be a bit confused, BELLARIA is pronounced: Bell-ah-ria. Like a bell, and an Italian aria. :)**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes.**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is all mine.**

* * *

 **Chapter 5 – Like a Moth**

I returned to consciousness with a jolt and with the first syllable of an already-forgotten word narrowly bursting past my lips as the only remainder of a dream already fading into a distant whisper. Like a frightened child, it hid within the darkest corners of my mind, retreating to safety. Simultaneously drawing in a long breath and lurching upright on the couch where I'd unintentionally drifted off, I fisted the front of my tee shirt and clamped down hard on my chest to keep my pounding heart from exploding.

Then, I shut my eyes again and curled into the cushions, pulling my hair while I tried with all my might to recall at least some portion of my latest dream: a scene, a face, even a full word. But the only vestiges were the lone, soft vowel I could still taste on an expelled breath and the overwhelming sensation of being held, of being ached for, of being adored as always.

For always.

OOOOOOOOOO

Ever since Edward Masen breathed an ancient noblewoman's name in my ear a couple of days earlier, infused with so much passion, with so much burning intensity, I'd been fascinated.

And terrified to my very core, inexplicably fearful of even thinking the name too loudly, much less speaking it.

Yet I was like a moth, who despite instinctively sensing unknown dangers, was nevertheless drawn in by the brightness of the flame. Like a curious child, who knew she shouldn't reach out and touch; still, that's exactly what she ached to do. I was mesmerized, enthralled by the unknowns, tempted by the dark and conceivably horrific possibilities surrounding Edward Masen's medieval knight's tale.

And if I was honest with myself, I was more than a little enraptured with the storyteller himself.

But I resisted. Armed with the warning he himself gave me, I was yet to enter _her_ name into a search engine or to visit a library with _her_ as my subject. Yet, with every hour, or more accurately, with every minute that passed, it became harder and harder to battle the inner urge for any and all knowledge related to _her_.

And it became an almost overwhelming endeavor to fight the craving for _him_.

Nevertheless, after hovering behind me and heatedly mouthing _her_ name in my ear the way a devout follower mouths a prayer to his deity, I didn't see Edward again until earlier today. He showed up to the lecture hall ten minutes late for our final class of the week and took a seat in one of the back rows. Then, he proceeded to fiddle with his laptop without a glance in my direction.

And like that aforementioned precocious child, I couldn't resist the lure of his presence. Of their own volition, my eyes continuously strayed toward him. Each time they did, his eyes were on his laptop. Once I dimmed the lights for the PowerPoint portion of the lecture, he finally looked up and met my gaze, and my breath quietly hitched. Wordlessly, I dared him to speak, to agree with or to refute my lecture as he'd done during our first lesson, to say _anything_ that would justify the blood pounding in my veins as if attempting to break free of my body and rush to his. The entire time, his bright and almost unnaturally green eyes held mine in the darkness, their intrinsic intensity never wavering. Yet he said not a word, and I couldn't take it any longer.

"What are your thoughts, Edward?"

"I have many thoughts, Bella." Even in the darkness necessitated by the presentation, his eyes pierced through me.

"Would you care to share, please?" I cleared my throat, knitting my hands together behind my back to keep them still. "What I mean is, do you think the Normans built their castles more as a way to protect their citizens or more as an offensive stronghold, a way to intimidate those beyond the castle walls into submission? And with either answer, why do you believe so?"

It was a bullshit question, and I knew it. This was a university lecture hall, for God's sake, and I was putting the man on the spot. I was about to tell him to just disregard the question.

But Edward responded without hesitation. "Let's begin with the last part of that question first and work our way to the beginning. As we've discussed, the Normans were Norse descendants; raiding and pirating had been their way of life for centuries. It was in their blood. Protection…" Here he paused, and even though I couldn't see him very clearly, I could _feel_ the sudden wave of fury rolling through him, "protection was not."

"That's a broad brush with which to paint an entire people. I would think, as with any population, there were those who did value protection over subjugation."

"You misunderstand me, Bella, and that's obviously my own fault for not being clear. Yes, of course; there must have been those among the Norman conquerors who valued providing security over their need to rule. There were those…who knew honor, respect, and dignity; noblemen in its purest meaning. Men, who used their status to assist those of the lower class rather than to lord over them. To them, kin and kinship were held in the highest honor, and they protected their own as well as others. There were…noblewomen who despite their elevated position, never failed to offer a kind word or a radiant smile. Noblewomen, who despite being women in a time when that sex held little power, did all they could to offer strength, and whose own strength came from a belief in equality, not from a desire to perpetuate a ruling class."

My heart pounded in my chest as I, as well as the rest of the lecture hall, listened on silently to the intensity in his speech.

"And the rest?"

His green eyes blazed, and for all the calm equanimity in his next words, I could almost see red flames of fire brimming just behind his glowing eyes.

"For the rest, there were the castles, those fortresses made of limestone and sandstone surrounded by moats, drawbridges and armed guards standing sentry for those within who dreamed of power, of expanding their rule and their kingdoms, those who plotted and planned with little care for those they were meant to protect.

"So you believe the castles were for their own security, then?" I asked, attempting to stay on track. "Neither to protect their citizens nor to intimidate those beyond, but for a select few to keep _themselves_ safe?"

His responding chuckle was strangely crisp and had a hollow ring to it as if for all the intensity of a few moments ago, he was now completely devoid of feeling. "If they believed the castles would keep them safe, then it was a false sense of security."

"How do you mean?"

In the hidden darkness, a cold grin lifted one corner of his mouth, white teeth gleaming and sending a shiver racing up my spine. I wondered if I was the only one who could see through the green of his eyes and into the black abyss beyond.

"When the time for their end came, there was no protection, nor security." His voice was numbingly arctic now. "They hid in the castle strongholds, filled the deep moats with all manner of creatures, raised the drawbridges," he snorted, "fortified the walls, closed the iron portcullises, and lined the battlements with hundreds of men armed with arrows, swords, and hot oil. Yet for all their defenses, their walls were easily breached and sieged, their castles razed to the ground. And for all their noble greatness, their names couldn't even be recalled as little as a century later. They were wiped from the history books they so coveted, with nothing but obscure, floating ashes remaining of their great fortresses…of their ruthless quests for power."

For the next ten seconds, no one made a sound.

"But that's just my opinion."

"Wow. That was some opinion," someone murmured – one of the ditzy girls, I vaguely noted.

It was I who was forced to break our connection when the abyss in his gaze threatened to swallow me. I feared the others around us would see my accelerated breathing, the deeper than normal rise and fall of my chest, and the way my hands fidgeted at my sides.

"Thank…thank you, for that detailed opinion, Edward." I took a staggered step back and dropped my eyes to the floor, desperately pushing aside the bewilderment in my head and the bile abruptly making its way up my throat. "Let's move on now."

He didn't respond, and as I continued with my lesson as normally as possible, out of my periphery, I saw him pick up his laptop and leave the lecture hall.

OOOOOOOOOO

After waking from my dream that evening, trembling and agitated, I wandered into the kitchen, studiously avoiding the laptop which rested on the small wooden desk in the corner. In an effort to quell the impulse, the constant tingle in my fingertips, I instead pulled out the ingredients to make myself a grilled cheese. While I buttered the bread, my cell phone vibrated, stupidly making me jump. It was my friend, Kate.

Kate and I met when I moved to Seattle six months earlier. I was at the laundromat down the block washing my unmentionables and quietly bitching to myself while holding up my favorite pink lace bra – which had been white forty-five minutes earlier.

"Who doesn't check a public washing machine to make sure he or she doesn't forget the bright red undies just washed in there?"

"That would be me - sorry."

When I turned toward the voice, a beautiful blond stood before me, hand raised in mid-air while smiling sheepishly.

"But in all fairness, who doesn't check a public washing machine to make sure no one forgot their bright red undies in there _before_ putting their white unmentionables to wash?"

"That would be me," I conceded.

We both laughed.

"Seriously, let me pay for your basketful of pink lingerie."

"No, no. That's fine." I waved off her offer. "It's not as if anyone other than me will ever know the difference."

She found that humorous as well – so I allowed her to believe I was joking.

We hit it off right away, which was unusual for me. Kate was a high school substitute science teacher; hence, the hand raising. However, even though we had the teaching thing in common, unlike me, Kate did have someone at home to check her lingerie - her husband of two years, Garrett. Garrett ran his own business and worked late hours; therefore, Kate and I spent quite a bit of time together. She introduced me to a few other people in town, and all in all, I was slowly but surely leaving behind the stifled life I'd previously led in Forks.

So when I told her I'd already changed into pajamas and was at that moment prepping a grilled cheese for dinner, Kate wasn't impressed.

"A grilled cheese for dinner on a Friday evening, and pajamas even though the sun hasn't even set yet. Bella, you live on the wild side, which must be why you haven't been laid in six years."

"Gee, thanks for that reminder of my dry spell," I responded blandly, layering yellow slices of cheese between my buttered bread.

Kate snorted. "That's beyond a dry spell. That's what we in the science field call an extinction-level drought. Come on, don't tell me you're planning to stay home and play on that laptop all night, researching some topic or other regarding things that happened about a thousand years ago."

She had no idea how close to the truth she was. Still, I responded defensively. "Hey, that research is part of my job."

"So? You won't see me studying the table of elements tonight."

"Maybe you _should_ study that table. You need the refresher," I muttered. "Anyway, I wasn't planning on researching anything tonight."

Yet my eyes strayed longingly to the small desk in the kitchen where the laptop laid open and waiting…

 _Bellaria_.

The name shocked me with the way it forced its way into my head, causing a shudder to ripple through me. Shaking it off, I returned to rummaging around for a pan.

"Bella, come on, let's check out that new rooftop restaurant down in Pike Place. I think it's called…The Rooftop," she giggled.

"Kate…"

Agitated from a puzzling week, frustration easily ruled me. When I turned on the burner and it failed to immediately ignite, I sucked my teeth and jiggled around the ignitor. The ensuing flames sparked so suddenly that I had no time to draw back my finger before it was cocooned by a dancing blue and red blaze.

I was the moth…he was the flame…consuming me…enveloping me within his grasp. Devouring my very-

"Bella?"

"Shit." I snatched back my hand and shoved the injured appendage into my mouth, already feeling the blistering welt.

"What happened?"

"I burned my finger over the stove."

Kate sucked in a breath through her teeth. "How bad?"

Pulling my finger out of my mouth, I inspected the damage. "Actually, it's not as bad as I thought."

"Alright, good." Her distracted tone indicated she'd already lost interest with my possible injury. "Bella, come on…"

"I don't know, Kate. I had a crazy week, and I just wanted to unwind tonight."

"Which is why we should go out, so you can tell me all about your crazy first week as a college professor, and I can help you unwind. I promise we won't stay out too late. Garrett said he'd be home by one."

"Oh, so we have to be home in time for _you_ to get laid." I pointed out.

"Hey, at least one of us should get some tonight."

OOOOOOOOOO

The evening air was cool and damp, infused with the usual hint of eventual rainfall, but The Rooftop lounge's outdoor patio heaters, as well as the drinks, kept us warm. We ate, drank, and people-watched while I filled Kate in on my first week as a college professor – excluding the less relevant parts, of course. After a while, I was glad I'd let Kate convince me to come out. There was no point in staying home and fighting with myself.

"So all in all, you enjoyed your first week as a professor. Cheers to you!"

I clicked my glass to hers. "It was a bit nerve-wracking, but I'm sure I'll get used to it."

She snorted, pushing back her long, blond hair, which had already attracted a slew of attention. Against the backdrop of the fading evening sky, it stood out like an angel's halo.

"Hey, it can't be worse than being a lowly high school sub. We're the peons of the education system. Besides," she smirked, biting her straw in a way that drew more eyes to us, "I'm sure those college kids are way more nervous than you are. What are they, first and second year?"

"They're mostly first-year, yes, with some second-year...and some a bit older."

"Any of them fall in love with the teacher yet?"

I once remarked to Kate that those high school boys probably went wild when they walked into class and found _her_ substituting. Kate was the quintessential busty blond for which teenage wet dreams were invented. Yet even though I knew she was just teasing me in return, I couldn't keep from swallowing and nervously shifting my eyes away.

"Uh, oh. Tell me what they've done. Have they drooled on their syllabi, or left you twin apples on the desk with nipples drawn on them, or better yet, folded up notes with the dirtiest poems you could _ever_ imagine written on them – along with helpful illustrations drawn in the margins, of course, in case your own imagination isn't up to par."

"Speaking from experience, are we?" I chuckled. Then more soberly, I added, "No. This is college. They're all pretty respectful."

"Lucky you." She rolled her eyes.

I dropped my gaze to my glass and swirled the little straw around, watching the cubes of ice melt and dissolve into the drink. "There's this one guy, though…"

"What, an eighteen or nineteen-year-old in the late throes of puberty, with bad skin and wide eyes he can't keep off your tits?" She snickered. "Yeah, I've had a few of those too."

"Try closer to thirty with the sexiest stubble you can imagine and a gaze so hungry I think he may want to eat me alive."

Kate choked on her drink. When she finally recovered enough to speak, her voice was a strangled hiss. "What the _fuck_?"

"Never mind." Immediately regretting the blurted words, I tried to wave them off, casting my eyes around The Rooftop's lounge in search of a distraction. "Man, it's packed up in here tonight, isn't it?"

The dead of night had crept up on us, enveloping the rooftop in a darkness only broken by the beam of bright bulbs hanging in a zig-zagged perimeter around the four corners. The deejay now switched into the grittier beats of a weekend mix. Loud bass and vibrating equalizers pulsated within my chest like a pounding drum. More than a few people were now on the dance floor, swaying their bodies and grinding against one another in an effort to release a week's worth of tension. The drinks under their belts as well as the cover of darkness high up on a roof worked well at doing away with any lingering inhibitions.

Leaning in close, Kate pulled my drink out of my mouth. "Never mind how packed it is up in here. What the hell was that?"

I expelled a long breath. "One of the students, he's older - ex-military, and he's…intense."

"Intense how?"

"Intense as in tall, dark, mysterious, and intimidating as all fuck."

She quirked a brow in a silent request for elaboration.

"The way he looks at me; it's disconcerting, to say the least - like he can see right through me. It's…intimidating," I repeated with a humorless chuckle. "I don't really have another word for it."

Except _exciting, thrilling, mind-blowing_ …

"Intimidating," she echoed, a frown marring her forehead, "as in you think you may need to get campus security involved?"

"No, no, nothing like that. I don't know, Kate." Exhaling deeply, I scrubbed my forehead with the palm of my hand. "He told me a story; or rather, he started telling me one."

"What story?"

"Some deep, dark legend from the Middle Ages; no legend I've ever heard. Something about a knight and his wife, who were separated by…I don't even know what."

Kate's beautiful face appeared pale against the dark backdrop surrounding us. "And _you've_ never heard of this legend?" Her tone held more than a bit of incredulity.

"No." I fisted my hair. "I googled it and came up with…nothing." Conveniently, I left out any mention of _her_.

Kate chuckled, slowly nodding and leaning back sideways against her high stool. She casually crossed her legs, which made her already short skirt ride up mid-thigh.

"Ah, I see. Bella, hon, here's the deal. You're a beautiful teacher new to the world of academia, and your obsession with anything remotely Medieval is pretty easy to read within five minutes of a conversation with you. This guy is obviously baiting you – he's found your weakness, and now he's using it to reel you in."

"I don't know," I murmured shakily. "He doesn't seem the type to do something like that." My eyes drifted beyond to the faded horizon, where downtown Seattle was now lit for the evening. Then I shook my head and returned my attention to Kate, who was carefully watching me.

"Just remember, Bella. No matter how tall, dark, and mysterious this dude may be, all schools, including universities have strict non-fraternization-"

"I know, I know." I cut off her rant, upset at myself for giving the impression that I needed such a reminder. "You know what? You're right; it probably is all a fucking line, some game he's playing, which is why I'm not even going to waste any more of my time trying to research that bullshit story. And I'm sure as hell not looking to get my ass fired during my first session at UDub."

"Good girl." She patted my hand, but curiosity was still etched across her features.

"What?"

"I'm just not used to seeing you rattled by a guy. Usually, you're the one who does the rattling."

"What?" I laughed, returning to my drink. "What the hell are _you_ talking about now?"

"I'm talking about the way guys react to you."

"How do guys react to me? They barely even talk to me," I snorted. "You're the one who's always getting ogled despite that ring on your finger." I jerked my chin toward the huge rock on her left hand.

She held my gaze. "Bella, look around, honey, and open your eyes."

Pursing my lips, and more than anything else, with a desire to get it over with so that we could change the subject, I sighed and did as she asked.

Over by the bar, the deejay played with his laptop. The music erupting from the speakers reverberated throughout the entire Seattle skyline like a storm rumbling in the distance. A few feet away, a group of four guys in dress shirts and loose ties stood at the counter laughing and drinking from their overpriced craft beer bottles. When one looked my way, the other three followed suit. I held their gazes boldly, almost as brazenly as I'd held Edward's gaze earlier that day. And for a few seconds, they were just as cocky, making their interest known through raised brows and salaciously crooked grins. The other three banded behind the initial guy, leaning in and whispering with all their eyes still on me. He took a deep breath and for two seconds, it appeared as if he meant to saunter our way. Then, one by one, each man swallowed and blinked, looking away.

I snorted and furrowed my brow, sweeping my gaze back to the deejay. He was a good-looking guy in about his mid-twenties. He glanced up from his laptop and caught me looking, offering me one of those semi-obnoxious chin-bobs. For a few seconds, our eyes held, but then…just like the others, he shifted them away and back down to his laptop. A similar scene transpired between the bartender and me.

"What the hell?"

"They're intimidated, Bella. And it's not just guys," Kate explained. "The guys look like they'd love to ask you out but don't have the balls while the women look like they'd love to ask you for makeup advice but are too overwhelmed."

"Makeup advice? I don't wear makeup."

"That's beside the point."

Again, I stared at her.

"Bella, do you not own a mirror? You're not just beautiful, hon, you're gorgeous. You hang out at the laundromat in sweats, you're gorgeous. You dress up to come out, you're gorgeous."

All the while as she spoke, my eyes swept around the rooftop. Whenever someone met my gaze, he or she would hold it for just a few seconds before quickly turning away.

"Kate, I don't understand. When did this happen?"

"I get the feeling it's always been this way." This time when she smiled, there was a trace of sympathy in it. "I remember you once said you didn't have lots of friends or boyfriends back home."

"Yes, but that's because it's a very small town, and my dad is strict."

"Again, what does that have to do with anything? Bella, some people think twice before approaching you."

"That's not true. My students approach me and talk to me just fine," I countered. "And…" I shook my head, refusing to mention Edward and how bold he was with me, "the faculty are friendly enough."

"I said some people; not everyone."

"Why? Do I stink or something?"

She laughed. "No. You actually always smell really good. Let me guess, you don't wear perfume either."

Swallowing thickly, I tried to wrap my head around her claims. "If all that's true, how come you approached me so easily?"

"Like I said, it's not everyone. Some people just seem…almost afraid of getting too close to you."

I sat there, silently baffled.

"Bella, I didn't mean to upset you. Hey, if a guy doesn't have the balls to approach you, then fuck him."

"I can't actually do that if he doesn't approach me," I joked mirthlessly.

"Bella…" She tipped her head, offering me one of those apologetic, pitiful looks which just tended to expound the hurt all the more. Then standing, she reached for my hand. "Come on, it's Friday night. Let's dance and leave this stuff behind for now."

I followed her to the dance floor, but my body moved sluggishly, with absolutely no interest or desire. Kate's insane yet apparently accurate claims resounded in my head, and the more I thought about it, the more I noted how little interaction I'd had with people throughout my twenty-six years. I could count my friends on one hand and my lovers…well, they barely merited mention.

But Kate, most likely feeling guilty for pointing out such a miserable truth in the first place, was determined to pull me out of the dark funk which she'd had a hand in pushing me into. She ground herself into me, mimicking erotic movements which at first just made me begrudgingly laugh. But then…

All my life I'd felt different, like an outcast, and having it confirmed so openly both hurt and freed me. So now, I took notice of the eyes on us, of the guys just at the periphery of the dance floor, wanting to cut in but too fucking cowardly to do so. In parts seething and in parts curious, I beckoned them all with my eyes. I grinned provocatively and pressed my body to Kate's, licking my top lip, moving my hips with hers and running my palms up and down her thighs. The men held my gaze for a few seconds, chests heaving…yet eventually, they would always turn away. The women did the same.

Fucking cowards.

Ready to stalk from the dance floor, a man caught my eye, standing tall and erect before moving toward us with a completely confident strut. Without a word, he stopped just behind me and curved his hands around my hips and his body against my spine. The deejay's music picked up tempo, and our bodies swayed to the pulsing rhythm.

It took Kate a minute to realize we were now a threesome. When she did, she pulled away, eyes on mine, and backed up wordlessly. I nodded when she jerked her chin and gestured her intention to leave the dance floor. Then closing my eyes, I allowed the music to take over, acclimating myself to the sensations of a man's hands on me, his masculine body contoured around mine. He was a great dancer, smooth and sublime in his movements. When a song ended, he led us effortlessly into the next and then the next, guiding my hips with his. When I turned around and slid my arms around his neck, he gripped my waist.

"I'm Bella."

He grinned. "Hello, Bella. I'm Jake."

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **Happy Almost Thanksgiving to everyone everywhere – including those who don't celebrate the holiday. I'm grateful for you all, and for the diversity of such a wonderful world.**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook: Stories by PattyRose**

 **Enjoy your week no matter what you celebrate or don't celebrate, and I'll see you all again on Monday. :)**


	6. Chapter 6 - Shadows in the Dark

**A/N: Good morning! I hope everyone had a wonderful weekend, whether you celebrated Thanksgiving or not. :)**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes. (Although, I make changes until the very end, so all remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

* * *

 **Chapter 6 – Shadows in the Dark**

"It's great to meet you, Bella."

"Yes, you too, Jake."

Having dealt with the basic introductions, we danced on in silence, the decibel level not lending itself to stimulating conversation - which, as my father would've pointed out, wasn't the purpose of meeting in a club anyhow.

" _That's not fair, Dad! Everyone else in school is going to the club in Port Angeles after prom! Why can't I go?"_

" _Because you're better than that, Bella, and because people don't go to places like that for the stimulating conversation."_

"So what do you do, Bella?"

Lost in internal musings, I'd missed the deejay's switch from heart-pounding beats to the relatively mellower strains which now made it easier to prove Carlisle Cullen wrong.

"I'm a college professor."

"Oh yeah? Where, U-Dub?" Jake's hands firmly gripped my hips, his thumbs stroking in concentric circles. I kept my hands on his arms, consciously resisting the urge to curl and uncurl them.

"Yes. Good guess," I chuckled.

He offered me a smug grin. "I happen to be a good guesser. What do you teach at U-Dub, Bella?"

"I thought you were a good guesser?" I teased. "I teach history - medieval history to be a bit more exact."

"Really? Well, it also just so happens that I'm a big fan of medieval history: feudalism, knights, nobles, and grand castles – it's fascinating stuff."

"I'm impressed," I acknowledged, pulling back a bit and arching both brows. "And obviously, _I_ think it's fascinating stuff, but I don't usually meet many people at clubs who agree with me."

He chuckled. "Well then, I guess tonight's your lucky night."

"Maybe it is. That remains to be seen." I was acting much bolder than I normally would've, but the entire past week had me on edge, anxious to prove something. "And you? What do you do, Jake, or should I try to guess?"

"Go ahead," he smirked. " _Try_ to guess."

I studied him playfully, attempting to read his career in his features. Perhaps the intelligence of his eyes would give away an interest in IT, or his brawny confidence would signal a calling toward sports or his manner of dress and style would hint at artistic tendencies. But despite the fact that he was handsome and well-built, seemingly intelligent, and dressed impeccably, there was a blank impassivity in his features, and a casualness so temperate that it was hard to read a thing about him, one way or another. Nevertheless, I threw out a few guesses.

"Are you in…IT?"

"No." He shook his head.

"The Medical field?"

"Nope."

"An artist?"

"No," he chuckled. "Nothing that creative."

"Well, I give up," I shrugged.

"So soon?" he grinned. "Alright. I guess you can say I'm in insurance."

"Oh? What sort of insurance?"

"Just your basic life insurance."

"Ah. That sounds…"

"Boring?" he offered with a raised brow and a half-smirk.

"I was going to lie and say interesting," I admitted with a laugh. "It's not as if I can lay claim to the most adventurous career field."

"So we both have rather meek careers. I'll tell you what, though, Bella, there's nothing meek about the way you move."

My heart rate spiked, yet the sensation felt more like nervous energy rather than excitement. Still, I forced myself to press on, circling my hips, which he gripped even tighter, and swaying to the gritty music. "Really, Jake, you like the way I move?"

He watched me through dark, unreadable eyes, but his ensuing chuckle was low, rumbling deep within his chest. "You have no idea, Bella. You truly don't."

We made some more small talk, openly flirting, and why not? I was a single, young female, and he was an attractive man with a good sense of humor, who expressed himself clearly and intelligently.

"So, Bella, do you know what your name means, or have you heard that line way too many times for it to do me any good here?"

"Well, I don't know. Go ahead and give it a try, and we'll see how far it gets you. But I won't make any promises."

His mouth curved into a sanguine smile. I found myself staring at it, wondering how his lips would feel on mine. In that same instant, another pair of lips supplanted the image of his with so much force, with so much intensity that my breath quietly hitched. It startled me so that I only vaguely registered Jake's explanation of my name's etymology.

"Your name derives from ancient Latin, and the first part of it translates to beautiful," he said, his stroking thumbs close to my backside now. "And you certainly are beautiful. I've been enchanted by you since…since you walked onto this roof."

I should've been flattered. I should've blushed and dropped my gaze in that sexy way I'd seen other women do when they wanted to get fucked because as my dad would say, men and women didn't dance this way for the stimulating conversation. Then I should've looked up at him through long, curved lashes, and when his gaze shifted to my mouth, I should've encouraged him by running my tongue over my lips.

Instead, I turned away from his dark eyes. "Thanks."

"Well, that didn't seem to impress you."

In all fairness, I was as inexplicably pissed off with myself as I was with him. When the song ended, he leaned in close to my ear…much like Edward had done a little over forty-eight hours earlier. Yet the sensations which Jake's proximity engendered were the exact opposite of what Edward's intimate closeness had stirred within me.

"Would you like me to get you another drink, or would you like to head somewhere a little quieter and more…private?" When he pulled back, there was no mistaking his intention.

"No, thanks." I unraveled my arms from his neck. "I'm going to head home now."

He frowned, dropping his hands from my hips, and apparently as puzzled by my abruptness as I was.

"Uhm…okay. Would you like me to escort you?"

"No. I've made the trip dozens of times. I know the way by now. Take care, Jake, and thanks for the dance."

I pushed my way through the throng of bodies, aggravated with myself as I searched around for Kate, aggravated with Jake, and more than all, furious with Edward for fucking with my head. When a hand gripped my elbow, the growing fury rolled up my spine. I groaned audibly before twisting my head around.

"Jake, let go," I snapped, snatching away my arm and facing forward again.

If Jake was aware of my mounting ire, he sure as hell wasn't intimidated by it. When he reached for me once more, calling my name and bluntly restating his wishes, my entire body froze. For a handful of seconds, I couldn't even turn around as my heart stuttered in my chest before coming to an abrupt stop.

Finally, I managed to turn and face him.

"What did you say?"

"I said I'd love to get to know you better," he repeated serenely. "I think we have chemistry, and I'd like to exchange phone numbers and explore-"

"No. What did you _call_ me?" I demanded, chest now heaving.

Jake's brow furrowed. "I called you by the name you gave me as yours."

"That's not the name I gave you." My voice shook wildly while his eyes narrowed into dark slits. When he spoke again, he carefully enunciated every word.

"I called you by the name you gave me as yours. I called you Bellaria, the name I've been calling you all evening."

"No." I shook my head vehemently. "No, you haven't called me that because I didn't…"

"Yes," he said slowly. "You did."

 _It's great to meet you, Bella._

 _So what do you do, Bella?_

 _It's great to meet you…Bellaria._

 _So what do you do…Bellaria?_

The music thundering throughout the evening sky surrounded the rooftop while the pitch black of night surrounded Jake. My head spun. I twisted around and searched the dancefloor for someone, for _anyone_ who could corroborate my story, who would confirm that I'd _never_ uttered that name aloud.

"I didn't give you that name," I insisted. "I wouldn't." Fisting my hair, I swallowed through a constricted throat.

"Bellaria, I think you may have had too much to drink. Please allow me to escort you home, and we can figure this all out. I haven't even told you what the second part of your name means. All you have to do is say _yes_."

Despite the river of confusion in which I was drowning, despite the fact that some inexplicable part of me wanted to rip off his fucking head, I stood there and considered it. For one moment, while everyone around us dry-humped to the music, I held Jake's gaze and pictured him hovered over me, imagined him moving inside, his heavy breaths on my neck, his mouth wrapped around my breast while I arched my body closer to his, and I suddenly felt like doubling over. I crossed my arms against my stomach to keep from retching.

Yet more than nausea, I was overwhelmed with the most profound sense of guilt for even thinking such a thing. All of a sudden, I felt lost, alone in the world, with no idea of who I really was or where I belonged. It was such an overpowering sensation that I had to fight the urge to crumble to the ground.

"Jake, I apologize if I said anything to lead you on, but I'm not interested."

And with those words, I ran from him and from the rooftop without a backward glance.

OOOOOOOOOO

I caught a cab quickly. Once inside, I texted Kate with an apology for abandoning her and an excuse involving an upset stomach and nausea. It was a shitty excuse for an even shittier action. I knew it. Text sent and apparently read without a response, I threw the phone into my bag and leaned back against the cab's headrest. Kate's justified indignation was the least of my concerns.

The always-expected rain was now coming down hard, and as the cab wound its way around the dark and foggy Seattle streets, I stared unseeingly out of the window. Stores, pedestrians, cars, and everything else fell behind in a misty blur, making my head spin all the more and my stomach roll again.

 _Bellaria._

I sat upright with a jolt, unable to bear the enclosed confines of a cab while that name rolled around in my head. At the next red light, I dropped a twenty onto the front passenger seat and jerked open the back door.

"I'll just get out here. Thanks."

"Lady, it's pouring! You'll get drenched - or worse!"

Ignoring the cab driver's concern, I sprinted onto the saturated sidewalk, my initial steps unsteady over heels that slipped then click-clacked noisily when they hit the wet concrete. After a few feet, my steps evened out, and I drew in a deep, relieved breath. At least out here, the damp air and thick fog were my umbrellas, not against the rain but against the flood of convoluted thoughts threatening to drown me with their dark visions.

 _Bellaria._

Shit.

I fisted my wet hair, trying to squeeze the name out as I rambled on with no real heading, with no real purpose other than escape from my own head. I needed to lose myself in the sheeting rain, in the downpour coating and emptying the streets.

 _Bellaria._

The name consumed me, but it was _him_ who remained in the periphery of my every thought, and in the foreground of all I saw. It was _him_ between the red cherry blossoms bursting into a crimson river in my head. _His_ eyes glowed in the darkness of the lecture hall. _His_ gaze pierced through me up on the rooftop.

"What are you doing to me?" I asked the empty, rainy streets.

It wasn't a specific sound which broke through my troubled musings. There were no sudden footsteps behind me, nor an abruptly overturned garbage can, nor a yellow-eyed cat bearing its incisors while hissing from a high ledge. The damp hair on my arms and scalp simply stood on ends.

Pivoting on my heels, I completely expected to be grabbed and pushed against a wall, to have my mouth covered mid-scream. But there was no one, nothing but empty streets before me. At that moment, the world could've been completely devoid of another living, breathing soul.

" _Bellaria."_

This time, the name wasn't in my head. It was breathed aloud. It echoed in the soggy mist.

I spun around so quickly that my wet hair fanned across my face, smacking me hard. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

Only my own voice responded, ricocheting off of the empty streets like a boomerang.

"Ed…Edward?"

No answer.

I picked up my pace, squinting my eyes against the downpour to get my bearings, but the rain distorted everything. Every few seconds, I glanced over my shoulder, trying to see past the deluge toying with my vision, And every few seconds…I found nothing there. Yet I was unable to shake the sensation of eyes on me, shadowing me. The rumbling beats of a Spanish song erupted from one of the apartments above, mixing with the tempo of the falling rain.

" _Bellaria."_

I broke into a sprint.

Pulling my keychain out of my bag, I held the long, sharp end of the apartment key between my third and fourth fingers – an urban survival trick my father taught me when I informed him that despite his wishes, his pleas, and his ultimate threats, I was moving to Seattle.

" _Go for the jugular, Bella,"_ he said that day. _"It's a person's weakest point. Always go for the jugular. They won't even have time to react."_

Shuddering at the memory of his lesson, I reached up and cupped my throat. By then, I recognized my surroundings, only a few short blocks from my apartment, and I ran as fast as heels in the rain would allow.

" _Bellaria_."

The whispered voice grew louder…closer, and I knew I wouldn't outrun it. I whipped around, my throat now constricted so tightly I couldn't even swallow. My heart pounded painfully in my chest, blood throbbing in my temples. Still, I swallowed through the tightness and growled my next words with more force and grit than I felt.

"WHO THE HELL IS THERE?"

Again, no one answered. Instead, I sensed the space between myself and the shadows beyond closing, and the tips of my fingers tingled. My hands furled and unfurled wildly. Of their own volition, they moved higher, arms extended and palms open and out as if they could somehow keep the darkness at bay.

"Stay away," I hissed as the tingling in my fingers multiplied, fed off of my tension, concentrated in the now burning tips.

A strange sound erupted somewhere in the shadowed darkness. It sounded almost like the rumble of thunder, or like a rock slamming against another rock. And when the door to one of the apartment buildings behind me suddenly lurched open, I gasped, dropping my hands and turning around in one motion.

A few feet away, a couple stumbled out, drunkenly laughing. They passed me by without a glance, absorbed in the swinging of their joined hands as they staggered down the street.

The rain stopped. More people walked in and out of apartment buildings, crossed streets, rounded corners, exited cabs and brought the world back to life.

And I was sure I was now losing my mind.

Another cab rounded the corner before coming to a stop before me. When the back door swung open, and Kate walked out in her short miniskirt and thigh-high boots, I could've cried. Instead, I swallowed and managed a whispered word.

"Kate."

"Bella, I've been looking all over for you!"

She approached me swiftly, reaching for my hand. "My God, you're soaked. And you're shaking." She frowned. "What's going on?"

"I…I…"

Deep creases marred her forehead. "Bella, what is it?"

"I've…I've been…" The previous half hour or so suddenly seemed like the psychotic breakdown of a woman on the brink of madness.

"I've been walking. That's all."

"In the downpour we just had? That was the worst storm we've had in months." When I said nothing, she continued. "When you texted me that you weren't feeling well, I got worried and left the club, figuring I'd stop by and check on you. And instead of home and in bed, I find you wandering the streets."

"I had to…the cab made me nauseous."

"I thought you were nauseous when you left The Rooftop."

"The cab made it worse."

She pushed my wet hair off of my face. "Are you sure you're okay, hon?"

"Yeah." I drew in a deep breath and offered her a faint smile. All around us, the damp city's heart ticked to its usual rhythm. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine, Kate."

She scrutinized me carefully, narrowing her eyes. "Look, do you want me to stay with you tonight? I'm sure Garrett wouldn't-"

"No." I shook my head. "No, Kate. You go home to your husband. Yes, I was feeling shitty, but I swear to you, I'm fine now. I just needed some fresh – and wet air." I added a forced laugh for her benefit.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

She pursed her lips dubiously but apparently decided not to push the issue.

"Well, okay. I'll walk with you to your building and then take a cab home."

We walked the couple blocks to my building, and as we waited for a cab to take her home, Kate turned to me.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"

"Yes, Katelyn, I'm sure," I smirked playfully. "Look, I appreciate you checking on me, but I'm a twenty-six-year-old woman. I can keep myself safe from things that go bump in the night."

Again, she studied me carefully. "Of course, I'd check on you. Best friends are supposed to take care of one another, aren't they?"

"Yes, they are," I smiled.

After she left, and after I closed the vestibule door behind me, I sunk to the floor, my back trailing against the door's frame. For the next fifteen minutes, I simply sat there and waited for my heart to resume its normal pace. On the other side of the door, the usual sounds of urban life continued: footsteps resounded against concrete, music erupted from an open window, voices murmured at a distance, and the occasional car horn honked. Everything was as it should be.

But…something else remained – an undercurrent, an intangible awareness that wrapped itself around my body as if it was building an intricate web. It was nothing which I could see or hear or touch or blame for the continued curling and uncurling of my hands, for the tremors which still racked my frame every few minutes, or for the way that my head screamed that despite how ridiculous and outrageous it now seemed behind the relative safety of my vestibule door, there _had_ been someone out there. Whether the happy couple who poured out into the rain scared him or her off, whether they made a jokester lose interest in his or her prank, or whether my follower had other more nefarious intentions, that person was no longer around. I could feel it. I could _sense_ it.

My head told me I was being irrational, that days and nights of confusion and exhaustion were toying with my five senses. Yet something else entirely told me that even if every other part of the night had been my imagination - the strange looks at the rooftop bar, Jake calling me by _her_ name, hearing _her_ name whispered in the wind - this latest half-hour had not been a figment of my overwrought mind. That shapeless, anomalous, and indefinable something told me that someone had been out there with me, following me down the dark, empty streets, breathing the air I left behind, and shadowing my every movement like a lithe predator. Whether that someone was malevolent or harmless, I had no idea.

But _someone_ had been there.

"Bellaria."

I said the name aloud, whispered it in the privacy of the darkness, tasted it on my tongue the way…the way Edward tasted it the other day.

" _Bellaria_ , who were you, and why are you haunting me?"

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 ****Remember, it's pronounced "Bell-ah-reeyuh"**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook: Stories by PattyRose**

 **See you guys next Monday!**


	7. Chapter 7 - The Verse for Bellaria

**A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts!**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes. (Although I tinker all the way through until posting, so all remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

* * *

 **Chapter 7 – The Verse for Bellaria**

The elevator's ding announced my arrival onto the tenth floor of the eleven-story Seattle Central Library. With a deep breath, I stepped out and swept my gaze over the busy floor, which was solely dedicated to research. It was Sunday, the day when students and instructors of all ages and stages prep for the week ahead, and a quiet buzz permeated the air. It was the type of buzz which only a few could recognize and even fewer could appreciate; an anticipation for the written words, thoughts, and collective knowledge soon to be acquired.

Usually, I reveled in that feeling of excitement and anticipation, eager to learn of times, places, and events still unknown to me. Yet today, that feeling was almost eclipsed by apprehension toward what my digging might uncover. As I made my way to the reference desk, Edward Masen's ominous warning echoed in my ears.

 _Are you sure you want to learn the tale? Because if you do, you'll have to dig a lot deeper than the internet, and I warn you, you may learn things which cannot be unlearned…_

Hushed voices and careful movements surrounded me, and after the events of the weekend, I was grateful for the visible crowd. After receiving assistance from an eager and knowledgeable librarian, I found a private corner toward the back of the floor, with an enclosed cubicle and a comfortably cushioned lounge chair, and I settled in. The windows here faced Elliott Bay; unfortunately, it was hidden from view by the thicker than normal morning fog.

Two hours later, I'd meticulously scoured through three of the thickest tomes on Medieval Europe I'd ever encountered, with absolutely nothing to show for it. Frustrated, I looked up from the latest book before me and scrubbed my eyes hard. Exhaustion was making the small print blur into nothing more than misshapen ink blots.

The problem was that I'd spent both Friday and Saturday nights in the throes of continuous dreams. Every couple of hours, I awoke tangled in my bedsheets dampened by a cold sweat, and with tremors racking my body. In those waking moments between dreams, the professor in me had categorized them into three sets.

The first set included dreams in which I relived Friday night's injudicious walk in the rain. In these dreams, as on that night, I walked alone down the streets with the sensation of someone following me. Yet, unlike the actual events of that evening when I'd turned around and found no one, in my dreams, a pair of eyes were clearly watching from the shadows. The eyes were disturbingly familiar, with broken capillaries that left the whites of the eyes as red as angry fireballs. I awoke from these dreams with my hands twitching and with the tips of my fingers tingling just as they had that night.

Yes, those dreams were terrifying. But they at least had the benefit of being the most straightforward of the three sets of dreams. The other two sets were similar to each other in that they left me with no actual memory of what I'd dreamed, in a cold sweat, shaking, and with a palpitating heart. But in those two sets, half of the time, I opened my eyes to nothing more than shades of green which left me exhilarated and overpowered by a joy so great that for a few minutes after waking, my heart felt close to bursting from happiness.

The other half of the time, I awoke petrified, even more so than when I awoke from the first set of dreams. Wrapped in dark and horrifying shades of the brightest crimson and the purest black, even a lack of actual recall failed to shield me from the night terrors _those_ dreams engendered.

This last set of dreams were to blame for my exhaustion. They were the ones which kept me staring at walls and fighting sleep. And it was all somehow related to _Bellaria_ , that much I knew. Unfortunately, a couple of hours later as I continued making my way through the books, that was still all I knew of her.

"Excuse me, Miss?"

I looked up at the research librarian who'd helped me locate a few of the books currently on my desk. She was a woman in about her mid-thirties, with delicate-framed glasses rimming intelligent eyes, and who did away with all misconceptions regarding the plainness of librarians. She stood over me with yet another thick book in her hands, except this one appeared as if it hadn't been touched in a century, based on the generous layer of dust gracing its ancient cover.

"Yes?" I jumped back a bit when the librarian first blew off a dense coating of the gray particles on the book, then used her hand to wipe off the rest.

"I don't mean to disturb you, but when you arrived, you mentioned you were performing research on an Anglo-Norman noblewoman named Bellaria, whom you believe lived in England sometime during the high Middle Ages, so sometime between the eleventh and thirteenth century A.D."

" _Yes_ ," I repeated.

"Well, I found something that might interest you." She set the book down on the desk, dispatching more dust particles into the tight space between us, and then opened it while I waited with impatiently budding hope. "After you left the reference desk, I recalled once reading a tale from a completely different time period, a period much earlier than the one you're researching – more than a few centuries earlier, as a matter of fact. And it was set in the Roman Empire, not in Medieval England."

I pressed my lips together to keep from ungraciously inquiring why she was disturbing me with this if it had _nothing_ to do with my research.

"I'm sure it's here somewhere," she murmured, oblivious to my disappointment. With a focused frown, she licked her thumb and continued leafing through the book's yellowed and thin pages. "Ah, yes. Here we go. Now, as I said, the story's time period and setting are _not_ related to your research, but the story itself was _written_ quite close to that period, and the title..."

Eager to get this over with so that I could return to my research, I hastily scanned the title at the top of the page on which the librarian's licked thumb had paused.

" _A Tale of Tweye Kynde Bloode and The Lyne of…"_ – I drew in a sharp gasp – " _Bellaria_."

Renewed hope glowed like a beacon within me. "It's Middle English," I breathed, "translating to _A Tale of Two Kin Bloods and The Line of Bellaria."_

"Or more accurately, _A Tale of Two Bloodlines and The Lineage of Bellaria_." She wore an all-knowing smirk research librarians sometimes wore during a display of inferior knowledge. "Experts have confirmed that the tale, written in verse form, was penned sometime between 1290 A.D. and 1320 A.D."

"Penned by whom?" I wondered aloud, using my finger to mark my place while I searched the next few pages for an author.

"It's signed _ESOM._ " She pointed to the perfect calligraphy signature copied from the original manuscript and inserted at the very end of the lengthy poem. "But nothing more is known of the author."

"ESOM," I breathed, tracing each cursive letter with the tip of one finger.

"Yes. Now, the tale has been widely classified as mainly a work of fiction, but historians have confirmed that most of the tale's small cast of characters did exist. It's told in Middle English rhyming stanza."

"No, that last part can't possibly be right," I countered, frowning as I leafed through the pages again. Despite what most research librarians believed about their intellectual superiority, it _was_ possible for them to be wrong. "It can't be written in the Middle English rhyming stanza form because the development of that form is attributed to Geoffrey Chaucer, and Chaucer wasn't born until-"

"Until 1343 A.D.," she finished for me, smirking yet again. "Yes, I know. That's one of the reasons why this poem stood out in my mind."

My eyes scanned the few pages filled with the words of this ESOM, heart racing because the librarian was correct, it _was_ in rhyming stanza form. "What are the other reasons?" I murmured.

"Well, besides having been written in Middle English rhyming stanza, the tale is also classified as Historic Tragedy."

"Historic Tragedy is Shakespeare's realm of expertise."

"Yes, except Shakespeare wasn't born until the mid-sixteenth century, over two hundred years after _this_ Tragedy was penned."

"I don't understand," I confessed, looking back up at her for her expert clarification. "So this _ESOM_ is the true innovator of these forms of writing? Why doesn't he or she get the credit for them then?"

The librarian shrugged, which seemed like such an out-of-place gesture from her. "Perhaps he or she simply didn't want the credit. I stumbled upon the tale for the first time while I was in college, about fifteen years ago. After I read it, I recall wondering why the tale and its author weren't as famous or as revered as Chaucer and Shakespeare. Then, there's the final verse."

"What about the final verse?"

"The final verse is…well, I'll let you see for yourself."

I stared at her in obvious confusion, but she just smiled. Her warm, intelligent eyes sparkled.

"Thank you so much for this." I gently stroked the book and smiled in return, more than a bit ashamed and apologetic for my earlier display of impatience.

"No problem." She patted my hand in acknowledgment. "I'm not sure at all if it's what you need, but…I figured I'd show it to you and let you decide. Now, if I can help with anything else, I'll be at the reference desk."

When she walked away, I drew in a deep breath and turned my attention back to the book. As the librarian pointed out, each section of the story was told in Middle English rhyming verse. I'd have to carefully translate each verse into present-day English, which would eliminate the rhyming but would hopefully keep the main idea intact.

So settling comfortably against the cushion-backed chair, I began reading, focusing on the main points of each poetic verse:

 _In the first century A.D., in the city of Pompeii during the reign of the Roman Emperor, Vespasian, and after the birth of Christianity, there lived a young, beautiful, and spirited noblewoman by the name of Rena. Rena was kin to Vespasian on her fraternal line – her father, Carolus, was cousin to the Emperor – and on her maternal line, she was bearer of ancient blood rumored to have once possessed powerful magic._

 _But that magic had not manifested itself in many generations, and it was now believed to be no more. Moreover, in the post-Christian era, all forms of magic and sorcery were outlawed and believed evil. What was once an accepted practice had become an art so hidden that soon, many with mystical ability no longer even knew they possessed it._

 _Rena's father was the head of the Pompeian government, and as was the lot of young women of the time, she lived a sheltered and cold life ruled completely by her father. When she was sixteen, Carolus married off Rena to a nobleman by the name of Iakobus, who also possessed an ancient bloodline. With her new husband, Rena held hopes for a happy future, wishing for a life with fewer constrictions and with more affection than that which she'd known as her father's daughter._

 _However, on her wedding night, Rena discovered that her wishes were not to be. Iakobus brazenly confessed to marrying her not for love or even attraction, but for the magic her father promised him still flowed through her veins. It was this very magic Iakobus intended to possess, mold, and control once Rena bore him a child. When Rena informed him that her father had lied and she possessed no magic, Iakobus did not believe her. He flew into a rage, and it was then Rena discovered that her husband was not like most mortal men, for in his fury, he shifted into garwalf._

My head shot up. "Garwalf? That's Anglo-Norman for… _werewolf_." I shut my eyes tight, shaking my head from side to side. "No. No, I must be translating it wrong," I whispered. "It was probably ESOM's way to say that Iakobus had a mean motherfucking temper." Reopening my eyes, I returned to the obviously fictitious tale.

 _Rena later found that Iakobus could also shift his image to that of any man he touched, and on nights when the moon was full in the sky, he possessed the strength of one hundred men combined._

Again, I shook my head. Yes, definitely fiction.

 _Horrified, Rena did all she could to keep from becoming with child, for she would not curse the fruit of her womb with such a dark gift. For two years, she silently endured her horrific marriage._

 _In her eighteenth year, Rena attended a gladiator fight held in the Pompeian Colosseum. Among the warriors was a nomad-turned-gladiator known as The Gypsy, who was known all throughout the Roman Empire as the best warrior of his time. Both strong and cunning, men and women of all classes marveled at the Gypsy's might. Rena was no different. Upon his victory, she bestowed her lone red rose at his feet._

 _A secret love affair ensued between the two, against her better judgment, for she was possessed of ancient Roman blood never meant to mingle with what was believed inferior blood. She finally bore a child, a girl she adored, and which her husband welcomed solely for the long-awaited product of their combined bloodlines. Day after day, as the girl grew from infancy into childhood, Iakobus awaited some sign of his daughter's combined gifts, signs which did not come._

 _But Rena could no longer bear a life with her cruel, garwalf husband nor around her equally cruel father. She feared what would occur when both men grew weary of waiting for the child's gifts to manifest. Therefore, shortly before her child's third full year of life, while her husband was away in Rome, she lay in bed with her lover, and together, they made plans to run away with the child in order to keep her safe. Later, they made love and fell asleep in each other's arms. When Rena awoke, the bed was soaked in blood, and her gypsy lover was gone. Surrounding the bed was her husband and father, with dozens of Roman soldiers behind them._

 _As distraught as Rena was, it was nothing to the fear racing through her veins, vibrating from her hands into the tips of her fingers as she ran past them all and into the nursery in search of her daughter, who to her despair, was not there. Upon demanding her child's return, Rena was informed that the child was at that moment being escorted to Rome by one hundred of her father's strongest men, where Iakobus' family would tend to her until his arrival. Rena, as a confirmed adulteress and an accused sorceress, would be put through a mock trial, and then, she would hang._

 _At this point, Rena informed her husband that he was not the father of the child. Both men flew into a rage. Her father, Carolus, accused her of diluting her bloodline with that of a worthless gypsy's, thereby defiling and destroying the sorcery she may have still passed down in her blood, even if she did not possess it herself. Iakobus accused her of failing to bear a child who would have had both his dark powers and those immortal ones of her ancestors'. Now, he swore he would kill her bastard child when he reached Rome._

 _It was August 24, A.D. 79, and Rena, bereft and deprived of absolutely everything that once mattered to her, raised her arms to the sky, stretched her fingers wide, and the sun disappeared behind a cloud of volcanic gas, stones, and ash. As it all rained down upon the city and trapped everyone within, she informed her husband and her father that yes, she indeed bore magic within her._

 _Magic flowed through her hands and into her fingertips. It was the same magic which had flowed through her maternal ancestor's hands one thousand years earlier, and it was this magic which in one thousand years would manifest itself in the hands and fingers of the next chosen female descendant of her blood. She would be even more powerful than Rena and all her ancestors combined, for the gypsy blood had not diluted her bloodline, but rather strengthened it. Yes, her blood would one day create immortality, but it would not mingle with Iakobus' blood._

 _It would repel it._

 _She told him that it was he, Iakobus, who would find his family's bloodline diluted and weakened with each passing generation, until with the magic in her hands and the gypsy blood in her veins, the chosen one would sate Rena's thirst for vengeance – even if it took her more than one lifetime._

There, _A Tale of Two Bloodlines and The Lineage of Bellaria_ indicated with a _"The Ende"_ that it had come to the end; although, below those two words, there remained one more verse and a couple of lines.

Before continuing, I closed the book and released a long, shuddering breath, attempting to shield my mind from the visions of the written horrors before me, but they remained as potent as if I'd witnessed them all firsthand.

"It's just a story, just a story," I assured myself while flashes of scenes from my own life raced through my head: my own overbearing father… _my_ tingling, outstretched hands and fingers.

"Just a story." Swallowing, I reopened the book and relocated the last page of the poetically tragic tale. Then, I ventured back into the text and read the final verse written by the unknown author ESOM, this one given a separate title from the rest of the poem:

 _ **The Verse for Bellaria:**_

 _Bellaria, your name is a beautiful song,_

 _and I shall sing unceasingly your worship on my tongue._

 _As choruses unbound, as melodies resound through space and time,_

 _so endures this love of mine._

 _Bellaria, my heart, my soul. If ever you wonder how long this worship stays,_

 _know now it remains yours as always…for always._

The entire tale closed with two more lines:

 _I know now why I remain. I will await you, my beloved._

 _Amor Vincit Omnia._

 _ESOM_

I ran my fingers over the enchanting verse, tracing the final four words over and over, tasting them on my lips as they mingled with my tears. "As always…for always."

The ache in my chest, the fury pounding through my veins on behalf of the Roman woman from ancient Pompeii, who had all she loved so cruelly taken from her, was so severe that I had to place a palm over my heart as an attempt to quell the pain. All the while, my other hand curled and uncurled.

"So what did you think?"

Quickly wiping my cheeks, I looked up at the librarian. Behind her, the floor-to-ceiling windows opened up on a now setting, clouded sun.

"It was…beautiful," I admitted, unable to keep my voice from quivering, "but it was extremely tragic."

"As tragedies tend to be," she nodded.

"And that final verse…" My eyes strayed back to the verse, to the last four words of it.

"Magnificent, yes, in its ability to convey such longing, such an all-consuming, never-ending adoration."

"Yes," I breathed. "Amor Vincit Omnia. Love conquers all."

"Yes, it does," she agreed quietly.

I felt dizzy, overwhelmed by so much information. Yet more than anything, I was dazed by the adoration in that final verse penned by ESOM, whom I now believed must have been Bellaria's husband…the knight of whom Edward spoke during our first class.

"I was told by someone…I was told that Bellaria was absolutely worshiped by her husband."

"That last verse was certainly written by someone who worshiped her."

"But…" I frowned, shaking my head, "but it doesn't make sense. I was also led to believe that Bellaria and her husband lived long before many of the legendary tragic romances in medieval literature took place; in fact, that they were the basis for many of those legends. That means they would've lived some time in the early part of the high Middle Ages. But if ESOM wrote this poem in the 1300's…that's hundreds of years later. The timeline has to be wrong somewhere."

She held my gaze silently, for once apparently lacking an opinion.

"Miss…?"

"Esme. You may call me Esme," she offered with a tender smile.

"Esme, would you happen to know off-hand," I qualified needlessly, "in what year Mount Vesuvius erupted over Pompeii?"

"It erupted on a sunny, clear day in August of 79 A.D., burying almost two thousand souls under a mountain of ash and quickly-hardening lava. The city and its treasures were hidden from the world for almost two thousand years until it was excavated in the mid-nineteenth century."

"If that part of the tale wasn't fiction," I murmured quietly, "then in cursing her father and her husband, Rena also cursed an entire city…an entire population."

"She cursed more than a population," Esme clarified, "she cursed generations of descendants. But a soul in anguish sometimes does not think, and it commits atrocities in the name of vengeance."

"Do you by any chance know how much of this story has been corroborated by historians?"

She held my gaze, her warm, open features suddenly hesitant. "As I said, a few of the characters have been confirmed to have existed: Carolus, who was Senator during the last days of Pompeii, his daughter, Rena, and her husband, Iakobus. All three perished when Mount Vesuvius erupted. That's all that has ever been proven."

"How about the existence of Rena's daughter, and her lover – her child's father, the Gypsy?"

She shook her head. "As far as I know, there is no record, nothing beyond what is found in between those pages, that speaks of their existence."

"Yet, if the tale at the very least truly marks the beginning of Bellaria's mixed bloodline, then that must mean Rena's daughter survived. The secrets of her parentage were never discovered."

"Most likely not," Esme agreed. "In which case, she and her descendants would've lived in Rome as nobility."

"Until the fall of the Roman Empire in the west and its rise in the east as the Byzantine Empire. But then…how did her descendants end up in Medieval England?" The answer came to me on the heels of the question. "Her descendants must've mixed with Normans during the Byzantine and Norman wars early in the eleventh century. _That's_ how Bellaria ended up a Norman noblewoman!"

"That sounds quite likely," Esme said, her tone congratulatory at my having worked it out on my own. For a long while, we were both silent, even more so than required in a library.

"Anyway, look at me getting carried away. For God's sake, I'll admit it was magnificently well-written and deserving of equal footing with the Middle English verses by Chaucer, and that it was as haunting as Shakespeare's Macbeth. But like that work, the curses within _must_ be fictional, especially those regarding magical bloodlines, shapeshifting werewolves, and immortal creatures," I snorted.

"Most likely," she smiled. "Although…many in the circles of ancient literature have always considered Shakespeare's Macbeth to actually _be_ cursed."

"Are you saying those who know of this tale consider it cursed as well?"

"Perhaps…in the Middle Ages itself that was the thought. It would help explain why it's so little known."

"Hmm," I hummed quietly, staring out at the darkening sky and rubbing my temples. "Regardless of superstitious beliefs," I sighed impatiently, "if the tale was fictional and it truly wasn't Bellaria's lineage, then Bellaria never existed either – which would explain why I can't find a damn thing about her in Medieval literature."

"Or perhaps…you're just not looking in the right places yet." She held my gaze intently.

"Oh God," I fisted my hair in both hands, digging my elbows into the desk. "I feel as if I'm back at square one."

Esme reached out and lay a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. "You're not. You have a starting point now, and I'm sure that if you research it all carefully, what you seek _will_ be revealed."

I looked up at her and smiled gratefully for the dedication with which she'd assisted me all day. "Esme, I apologize for taking up so much of your time today."

"Don't apologize. It's my job to be your guide as much as I can be. But yes, I'll return to my desk now. You know where to find me if you need me."

"I do. Thanks again, Esme. By the way, I'm Bella," I said, realizing I'd never given her my name.

"It was…wonderful to meet you, Bella," she said softly before returning to her desk.

With an inexplicably heavy heart and one last stroke to that final verse, to those final lines already committed to memory, I closed the book on the beautiful yet heartbreaking tale. "As always…for always," I murmured to myself.

Then, I returned to searching through Medieval England for a woman whose bloodline I possibly now knew, yet who remained as elusive as ever.

OOOOOOOOOO

A couple of hours later, and toward the end of another book with no information, I looked up and once again scrubbed my exhausted eyes. Outside, nighttime had fallen over the bay, making the water sparkle in its blackness, indecipherable from the dark city beyond. When I looked away from the windows, I saw _him_.

It was Edward Masen; tall, dark, and undeniably fearsome as he strode my way. His unflinching gaze locked in on me, eyes black as coal clouded with a nebulous fury that rolled off of him in waves. And as he drew nearer, I saw that it was more than fury buried in that dark abyss. It was wrath. The wrath of a millennia.

"What the actual _fuck_?" I murmured breathlessly.

My eyes widened in both shock and yes, fear; a fear which turned the blood in my veins to ice and which labored my breathing. He closed in, and everything around us faded into the background. The low buzz of the library muted then completely disappeared. Everything and everyone, including _him_ , suddenly disappeared, and the library morphed into a canvas of dripping watercolors out in the open with a blue sky above and…and a caravan of Roman guards on horseback escorting a crying, frightened little girl through the mountains while in the distance, a fire of lava erupted in the sky.

The image quickly changed, and everything darkened again, now into shades of black and burgundy. Edward was once more in the forefront, walking towards me. But he was now dressed in the blood-stained armor of a medieval knight, slowly yet purposefully striding through darkened hallways lined with burning torches, his cape floating in the air he left behind. The opaqueness of his surroundings matched his eyes and allowed the glinting item gripped tightly in his hand to stand out all the more. It caught the shadows on the stone walls as he wielded it expertly and gleamed when he brandished it high, the carved hilt gripped fiercely in both hands as he swung in an arc.

I must've screamed - an unfortunate thing to do when you fall asleep in a library and the only thing to muffle the sound are the ancient pages pressed against your mouth. When I snatched up my head, at least a dozen sets of eyes were on me, narrowed into equal parts curiosity and annoyance.

"Shh! Keep it down!" one elderly woman scolded.

"Shit, shit, shit," I hissed, fisting my hair. "I'm losing it again."

It took me five minutes to calm my racing heart and to stop my shaking enough so that I could gather up the books I still needed and race out of the library.

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **We've been missing Edward, I know, but it was necessary. Don't worry, though. He'll be around full-force from here on in. :)**

 *****I've played with history a bit in this chapter. All props to Chaucer and Shakespeare for the incredible works and literature forms they created. Vesuvius did erupt over Pompeii in 79 A.D., but the rest is the product of my imagination.*****

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook: Stories by PattyRose**

 **See you guys next Monday!**


	8. Chapter 8 The Vagaries in Life & Nature

**A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts.**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes (However, all remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

* * *

 **Chapter 8 – The Vagaries in Life and Nature**

Life and nature advance hand in hand. Minutes, hours, and days accrue and then somehow become weeks. Weeks become years, which in the blink of an eye, turn into decades. Decades morph into centuries, etc., and the life cycle continues because Nature once decreed it so. There are no extensions. What begins as an egg must progress to the next phase within its unstoppable metamorphosis. A caterpillar has no choice but to become a chrysalis, which then becomes a butterfly, which mates to carry on its species and then…dies.

We as humans, however, have a tendency to try to defy Nature. We rail at the unfairness of our short life span and struggle against it through unnatural diets, by hiding from the sun, and if all else fails, Botox at least gives us the appearance of defiance. Yet, no matter how much we fight, the cycle isn't physiologically altered. We grow _old_. There's no magic at hand to halt the hands of time.

These were the metaphysical musings running through my head as I sat under the university's cherry blossom trees once again early on Monday morning. To be honest, it wasn't anything meaningful or deep which brought on these thoughts. By that point, after constantly fighting dreams which had me functioning on less than a handful of hours of non-REM sleep since Friday, I lacked the synapses necessary to think that deeply. Perhaps, with a few more working brain cells, I could've attributed some deeper meaning to my thoughts. I could've seen how the dots connected to more than the cherry blossoms around me, and how the vagaries of the life cycle surrounded me from every side.

But at that moment, all I saw was that just the previous week, cherry blossoms had sprouted from the trees above and extended their petals toward me like a welcome mat from spring itself. Now, one week later, the pink and red blooms gave way to green leaves, and the petals along with their sweet crimson center laid scattered like a sticky, red river running through the campus' grass and concrete. They'd grown old. Their circle of life was in its advanced stages, and there was nothing I or anyone could do to change it.

With a wistful sigh, I cast my gaze away from the cherry blossoms and brought it back to the book on my lap – borrowed from the university library this morning. My laptop was splayed open on the grass next to me, the screen displaying today's lecture hall lesson plan, which had been neglected for days.

A few minutes later, fisting my hair and muttering a frustrated curse, I slammed shut yet another useless book. Then, I picked up the laptop and set it on my thighs.

"Alright, Bellaria, if you want to play hide and seek, you'll have to wait because _I've_ got a lesson plan to review and only a little over an hour before class begins."

Yes - over the weekend, never one to do things half-way, I'd picked up talking to myself as part of thoroughly losing my mind. Nevertheless, for the next half hour or so, I attempted to diligently focus on nothing but the lesson plan before me. I was a history professor, damn it, and a new one at that, who'd been entrusted with an entire lecture hall full of students. It was about time I concentrated on my real responsibilities before I found my ass fired halfway through my first semester.

Yet no matter what I did, ESOM's final verse to his _Tale of Two Bloodlines_ , showcasing his devotion to his beloved Bellaria, kept flashing through my head just as it had since reading it one day earlier. I was consumed by questions, among them:

 _Who_ was ESOM, and _why_ did he write the tale?

 _How_ was one supposed to account for the time difference, measured in centuries, between when he'd written the tale and when Bellaria supposedly existed?

 _What_ did ESOM mean by 'I know now why I remain,' and 'I await your return'? Were those lines of the poetic tale also fiction?

More than the questions, his final verse itself encircled my every thought. I recited them to myself as I tidied up my apartment yesterday evening, as I made myself that grilled cheese I'd been craving all weekend, as I showered before bed…and in between all my dreams. It was embedded so thoroughly that I found myself setting aside the barely-reviewed lesson plan and absently typing out the verse instead.

"Bellaria, your name is a beautiful song," I whispered, "and I shall sing unceasingly your worship on my tongue. As choruses unbound, as melodies resound-"

"-through space and time, so endures this love of mine."

With a long, ragged breath, my fingers froze over the keys.

The rich and strong voice now by my side took up the rest of the haunting lyrics, breathing them so close to my ear that they vibrated against my skin and raised the fine hairs on my neck. He caressed every syllable as if it were a soft cheek, or a warm thigh, just as he'd caressed her name less than a week earlier. And just as that first time in the darkness of the lecture hall, I more than heard his voice, I _felt_ him in my blood.

"Bellaria, my heart, my soul. If ever you wonder how long this worship stays, know now it remains yours…"

Slowly, I turned my head sideways, afraid that I was dreaming again, terrified that any sudden movement would wake me. Instead, I met Edward's intense gaze.

"As always…for always." We echoed the words together, and locked in his bottomless eyes, I wondered if I'd indeed fallen asleep, or if I was merely imagining him reciting such words while the early morning breeze whipped through the remaining cherry blossoms above us and the hidden birds spread their wings and soared.

"You know the verse."

He didn't respond right away. Instead, Edward Masen shut his eyes and swallowed thickly as a series of expressions flashed across his ruggedly handsome features too quickly for me to read. When he finally reopened his eyes, their expression had settled on neutral, as impassive as the smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

"Yes, Professor Cullen. Yes, I know the verse."

His voice was inflectionless, and reaching above, he almost too casually wrapped his hand around one of the tree's branches. My eyes followed his every movement, the way he gripped the branch, the way his wrist flexed around it…the angry scar encircling that wrist like a flesh-toned bracelet. I must've stared at it for a beat too long because his gaze followed mine, and his brows knit together.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to stare. It just looks as if it must've been painful when it happened."

"It was far from the most painful experience I've ever had." Then hanging on to the branch, he leaned over me, that empty smile still playing around the corners of his mouth. "You enjoy these trees." It was a statement more than a question.

"I do. They're a symbol of life and nature – a reminder of how it's all connected."

He simply nodded, and with a deep sigh, he looked up at the tree. "Where I come from, the branches of the cherry trees bloomed with white flowers instead, and the trees themselves were revered…once believed to have special powers."

"They were once believed witch's trees," I chuckled. "Yes, I've heard the medieval folklore."

He chuckled in return, the sound as hollow as his smile. "And, of course, you don't believe in folklore. You're a modern-day woman." Eyes still on the tree, he asked, "How was your weekend, _Bella_?"

"It was busy."

"I can imagine."

"No, I don't think you can," I snorted.

"You'd be surprised." When his eyes returned to me, they were tight and nebulous. His grip on the thick branch tightened, the wood bending at a dangerous angle while the sinewy veins running up and down the length of his arm bulged.

"You're going to snap that branch in half," I noted.

Immediately releasing it, he straightened up his long legs, his shoulders squared and stiff. "Tell me, Bella, what exactly do young, professional, and intelligent twenty-first-century women do on weekends for fun?" The impassivity in his tone was gone, and instead, his words now sounded hard and inexplicably edgy.

"I'm sure it's similar to whatever young, professional, intelligent twenty-first-century men do for fun."

He raised a brow, chuckling humorlessly. "Ah, modern-day gender equality at its best - of course."

I frowned, puzzled by his strange attitude this morning. "Has gender equality not reached that part of the world from where you hail?"

"Oh, I'm sure it has…now," he smirked. "But no, when I lived there, it did not exist."

"I feel sorry for the women who lived there at that time."

His black gaze seared through me. "Again, you'd be surprised. There were very strong women, who knew the difference between true courage and needless curiosity, and therefore didn't place themselves in situations where they could come to harm."

"You mean they knew their place," I grimaced.

"No," he answered with a dark look, nostrils slightly flared. "That's not at all what I meant."

Before I could ask what exactly he meant, Edward hung his head low and shook it from side to side. When he finally lifted it up, his eyes had changed again, now full of a weighty remorse. And when he spoke, the edge in his tone was replaced by a whispered tenderness that had no place between a student and his instructor.

"Bella...I apologize if I spoke sharply or disrespectfully. I had a difficult weekend, but that's no excuse for my discourtesy." He exhaled heavily. "You look...exhausted."

"Like I said, I had a busy weekend too."

As I spoke, the events of the weekend replayed themselves before my mind's eye. I clearly heard myself calling his name while standing on that dark, rainy street. I saw the ancient, little girl crying as she was escorted through the Roman Empire's hilly terrain. I saw _him_ …as a vengeful god cloaked in armor from another century.

I swallowed. "I was hoping I'd see you before class this morning. I did some research on Bellaria over the weekend."

"Did you? You mean you found time to perform research during your _busy_ weekend?"

The reproachful tone was back.

"Mr. Masen, you're right; I'm exhausted. So please forgive me if, in my exhaustion, I'm reading you wrong, but it feels quite a bit like I'm being reprimanded here this morning. If so, I'm way too tired to deal with it or to try to figure out why. If you'll excuse me." I shifted around into a standing position.

"No, please!" he said quickly, holding a palm out while simultaneously pushing the other hand through his hair and fisting it hard. "That was…Christ's love," he said in a strangled voice, "my deepest apologies, once again." When I sat again, his shoulders rose and fell, and his gaze dropped to the empty space beside me. "May I, please?"

In truth, I should've hesitated much more than I did. "Yes."

He seemed relieved, and with controlled and deliberate movements, he slowly lowered himself to the grass next to me. Despite his confusing behavior of the morning, my entire body tensed at his proximity - kneecaps only inches from mine, eyes that were now almost unnaturally green and at my eye level. The hand resting on his thigh drummed and twitched.

"You don't allow anyone to intimidate you, do you?"

"Is that what you were trying to do?"

"No, Bella," he said softly, voice laced in unmitigated contrition. "No, of course not. The last thing I would _ever_ want would be for you to look upon me with uneasiness or with...with fear. No, my issues this morning are with myself - with my own shortcomings, my shortsightedness, and my failures, and I'm deeply remorseful for taking it out on you."

I shook my head. "I have no idea what you mean, but if it makes you feel any better, I think I may be losing my mind."

"It most certainly does _not_ make me feel better," he snorted, his expression clearly anguished, "and you are _not_ losing your mind."

My responding chuckle was as devoid of humor as his earlier one had been. "Ever since you told me of her, of _Bellaria_ , I can't get her out of my head."

"She tends to have that effect," he smiled dismally. In my periphery, I could see the hand on his thigh inching forward, and I both wondered and dreaded where it wanted to go.

"Mr. Masen…Edward, you told me you'd share everything you knew."

"That was before."

"Before _what_?"

"Before I knew what it would do to you. Before I knew it would be this difficult for you."

Even though I thought I'd been paying attention, I didn't actually see his hand leave his thigh. One second it was there in my periphery, and the next, before I could protest – if that's what I would've done – the pad of his thumb was stroking the puffy skin under my eye, ghosting back and forth along the deep, dark circles my mirror reflected that morning.

"You haven't been sleeping well."

I exhaled a long, heavy breath, bewildered by the sense of relief, by the bliss and natural _rightness_ of his touch. And Edward…a thousand different emotions danced within his endless gaze.

"No, I haven't," I murmured, closing my eyes, lulled by the tenderness in his voice and in his ministrations. Right or wrong made no difference to me at that moment. "She haunts me day and night. In my dreams, I see things that _can't_ be real. When I'm awake, I'm obsessed with finding her, with finding _both_ her and her knight."

"Bella…" His voice sounded anxious as if there was so much he wanted to say. Instead, he dropped his hand, bewildering me with how stripped I felt at the loss of his heat. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"For what?" I snickered wryly, reopening my eyes. "You did warn me."

"Perhaps I didn't warn you enough. Perhaps…it was more of a dare, knowing your innate curiosity, and knowing you wouldn't be able to resist. Yet, I should've known this wouldn't be easy, but I was so…elated."

"Elated by what?" When he didn't elaborate, impatience sparked like a flame within me. "Why are you doing this? Why purposely wake my curiosity with all these half-finished, cryptic lines and with this damned _legend_ only to refuse to give me the rest? Are you _trying_ to drive me crazy? Is this some sort of game?"

"Christ's love," he hissed sharply, fisting his hair and leaning in so close to me that I could feel myself drowning in the bottomless depth of his eyes. "I would give you everything if I could. _Everything!_ And it's taking everything in me not to do just that – not to give you all of it at once, here and now, and damn the consequences." Then shaking his head, he backed away again, swallowing. "But I can't. I will _not_ do that to you," he stressed, his chest heaving, "and so I now see that as I was warned, it must happen slowly, and it must be _you_ who discovers the answers or you will not…"

"I won't what?"

When he again refused me an answer, I threw back my head and laughed senselessly, almost uncontrollably at the darkening sky, at the pumice-toned cloud now hovering over us. It reminded me of Rena and her furious righteousness, a righteousness that destroyed a city. My hands curled and uncurled at my sides while thick, heavy raindrops fell from the cloud.

His strong hand suddenly covered mine, firm fingers knitting with my own all while hidden from view by high-stacked books and a laptop.

"Shh," he hummed gently, carefully. Squeezing my hand, he stilled its anxious movement. "Shh, you must relax, Bella."

"I can't relax. Now that I've started on this track, I can't stop until I know it all."

"I'm not asking you to stop. Trust me," he said intently, "I'm selfish enough not to ask that of you. And I am _not_ refusing you. I'm only saying that perhaps, at the moment, I may not be the ideal person to give you answers. I want so badly to get you there that I can't trust _myself_ to proceed at the appropriate pace."

"If not you, then who?"

He held my gaze steadily. "I spoke to you of my cousins."

"Yes, the two cousins who came from England with you."

"Correct," he nodded. "They have both spent…many years researching the era in question."

"Are either of them published?"

"No," he snorted, "they're not."

"Well, would I know either of their names from any seminars or symposiums? I'm sure I've heard of all the major players."

"No," he smiled wryly. "You wouldn't have heard of them. They've always conducted their research in private, but their collective knowledge is almost unsurpassed."

"Except by you," I said, instinctively knowing it to be true.

"I know things they do not," he confirmed, "but we'll get to them. I promise you that." Again, he squeezed my hand, and I took it for the promise and for the calming and gentle touch he meant to provide. The shower from the dark cloud hovering over us stopped as abruptly as it had started.

"Okay," I breathed. "But do you think they'd be willing to meet with me?"

"I know that both would be honored to meet with you, but you must promise _me_ a couple of things in return, Bella."

"What?" I asked warily.

"The first, until you meet with them, you must try your best to relax, to sleep, and to focus on those things in your life on which you focused before I…" he sighed, nostrils flaring, "before I brought up this topic with you."

"That's all easier said than done."

He exhaled impatiently. "Promise me you will try. I cannot bear to see you this way."

The way he spoke to me - with so much passion and emotion infused into every word – was as if he'd known me for so much longer than one damn week. It should've both frightened and infuriated me, but it did neither. Instead, I gave him as close to my own promise as I could.

"I'll _try_ ; that's as much as I can offer."

"And I suppose I'll have to accept that willful response," he smiled ruefully, but with a tenderness that made my heart ache. Then more sternly, his gaze locked on mine. "But for this next promise, I must have your complete subjugation."

 _"What?"_

"Perhaps subjugation is not the correct word to use with you," he acknowledged with a glare before whispering vehemently, "Bella, please, once it's dark out, don't wander the streets."

Again, I made to get up. "This is getting too-"

He held on to my hand tightly, making it impossible for me to budge an inch. "No, listen to me," he commanded, his jaw squared. "This is important. Don't wander the streets in the dark. Promise me this, and I swear to you, I'll explain it as soon as possible. But please, just _promise_."

I closed my eyes and pressed my lips together to keep from screaming. "I will _try_."

"Bella-"

Reopening my eyes, I glared at him. "No, Edward. Without an explanation, that's as much as you'll get from me."

He shook his head angrily. "Jesus. It's multiplied exponentially."

"You can be as cryptic as you want, it won't change my answer."

He shut his own eyes and exhaled. "Fine. Alright. Now...one more thing."

"One _more_?" I quirked a brow.

"Close your eyes."

I kept them wide open.

"Bella, indulge me, and obey on this one." It was a whispered plea, mouthed with that same tenderness from a few minutes earlier. And despite my reservations, this time, I did as he said, silently finding that when he spoke to me that way, as much as he accused me of being a modern-day woman, I was powerless against him.

"Now imagine," he murmured, his voice smooth and soothing, "a rare, sun-filled day with a cool breeze blowing through your long hair, tickling your back all the way down to your waist. It caresses the rest of your skin and whistles a soft song in your ear. Imagine you are standing in the middle of a field of lavender with the stalks billowing to and fro, the entirety almost untouched by anything but nature. And you gaze upon it all with wonder, inhaling its soothing scent. Imagine that beyond the field…beyond grow the wild cherry trees, the very ones you have always loved, and which have always called to you. They're wide open in the prime of their bloom, their petals falling from the flowers and floating in the air all around you as if _you_ call to them."

Eyes closed, I smiled as I felt my pulse slow and my heart rate normalize. The heat of the sun warmed my face, the clouds completely dissolved. The birds' songs once again resounded from the branches above. My rigid shoulders slackened, and I felt more serene and less stressed than I'd felt in days…perhaps ever.

"Thank you. You painted a wondrously beautiful picture."

"That's because it was a wondrously beautiful sight."

The words were breathed in my ear so softly that I wasn't sure if they'd been real or just another one of my illusions. Either way, when I opened my eyes, Edward was gone.

He'd untangled his fingers from mine and in their place left a folded piece of paper with two names and two separate phone numbers. In this day and age of computers and printers, it was rare to see handwriting. As a matter of fact, every assignment I'd had returned to me was either printed out or submitted electronically, as expected for our time and place. So this paper, this perfect calligraphy handwriting struck me with such a sense of yesterday, of déjà vu that it took my breath away.

 _Jasper: 206-555-4739_

 _Emmett: 206-555-9231_

Filling my lungs and inhaling the sweet scent of the cherry blossoms and the musky scent of _him_ , I refolded the paper, casting my gaze around the campus…searching…

"Edward..."

But not finding. And standing, I left unsaid the rest of the words which inexplicably and instinctively encircled his name.

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **I was going to call the following song a Chapter Song Rec, but really, it fits the entire story:**

 _ **Bring Me to Life**_ **, by Evanescence.**

 **Give it a listen, and you'll see why. ;)**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook: Stories by PattyRose**

 **See you guys next Monday. Have a great week. :)**


	9. Chapter 9 - Scars Upon the Heart

**A/N: Happy New Year! I hope everyone enjoyed their holidays. I know it's been a few weeks, but with the holidays over, and the kiddies back to school, I'm back. :)**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes.**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is all mine.**

 **Pretty long chapter up ahead to make up for the delay. :)**

* * *

 **Chapter 9 - Scars Upon the Heart**

 _In the corner of the room, the fire roars. Flames crackle out of the stone hearth while red and gold dance together like falling leaves. The heat kindles her naked body. She remains still as a statue before it, silent as the darkness outside until she hears his voice calling._

" _Come, my wife."_

 _She gasps, and her heart races. At her sides, her hands clench and unclench, for he awaits her behind the closed curtain, and his shaky voice betrays his eagerness._

" _I am afraid, my husband," she admits._

 _His soft chuckles fill the air and soothe her, for despite her apprehension, she trusts him with her life. When the curtain encircling their bed parts, she sees her new husband sitting at the edge of it. Of their own volition, her eyes immediately trail downward to his bare chest. They widen at the sight, for it is a wondrous one._

 _Yet her husband bears scars from the many battles he has fought in her father's name, scars which she has touched when her curious fingers have roamed during stolen moments. Nonetheless, she has never actually laid eyes upon these sacred places. The flaw marking his face and running from cheek to jaw is thinner than these others. Over the past twelvemonth, since he received it at the sharp end of a now-dead enemy's sword, it has healed well and become less conspicuous. But these others…they are greater and deeper; red and jagged angry welts marring an otherwise tight and firm chest, and lining arms cordoned with sinewy veins and muscle. Her breath hitches at the sight of them, and she completely forgets she is naked._

" _Do they disgust you?" he whispers as she takes them all in. "Are they what frighten you?"_

 _She shakes her head wordlessly. With hesitance, she moves close enough to him so that she can touch them, running the tips of her fingers over their raised surface while marveling at the tremendous warmth of his skin._

" _Do they hurt, my husband?"_

" _No." His murmured word is shaky, and the muscles in his stomach tighten at her touch. "No, my love."_

 _Her hand pauses over his quickly beating heart, and she closes her eyes as one of her strange dreams flashes through her mind – a vision of him being run through by hundreds of swords. Swallowing, she pushes it away, determined never to speak of it, for to do so would give it life._

" _The only thing that frightens me when seeing them is how close they are to your heart. Had they killed you, surely I would have perished as well, for I have always worshiped you, even before you loved me."_

 _He takes her nervous, wandering hand and pulls her closer so that they are chest to chest as she stands unclothed between his legs._

" _Do not be uneasy," he breathes, knowing the agitated habit of her hands._

 _The tips of her mounds tingle where they meet his chest, and as she recalls her nakedness, she again gasps. Forbidding her eyes from trailing further down, she sees in her periphery that his manhood remains covered by the downy bedspread between them. He is chivalrous, and he will ease her into this. Yet covered or not, it bulges under its covering. She feels its hardness twitching against her stomach._

 _With his free hand, he lifts her chin to meet his gaze. His eyes are as green as the fields beyond the castle walls, and she sees pure love reflected in their depths. "That is in the past. I am hale and hearty, and I will never recall a time before I worshiped you as I do now. We have been joined as husband and wife. So tell me what frightens you still?" he asks tenderly._

"' _Tis only…" she says shakily, swallowing and forcing herself to hold his gaze, "I do not believe it will fit."_

 _For one moment, his brow furrows in confusion before understanding fills his eyes, and he laughs lightly._

" _What do you not believe will fit, and what does a highborn maiden of barely eighteen years know of such things?"_

" _I know very little, as you are well aware. I have no mother, and I have been sheltered by both my father and my brother before he passed. Yet Cateline has whispered things to me in preparation for this night."_

 _His lips twist in distaste. "Did you not say your lady-in-waiting objected to our marriage when you confided in her?"_

" _Only because she has always overly concerned herself with obedience to my father. Either way, 'twas not her decision to make but mine."_

 _He snorts. "I have never believed your favored lady-in-waiting possesses any true depth. Therefore, I do not trust her to have provided you with anything of use."_

 _"Cateline does not signify here," she says impatiently._ " _More than anything she may have said…"_

" _More than anything she may have said…?" he prompts carefully when she does not continue._

 _Despite her mortification, she holds her chin high. "More than anything Cateline said, I have witnessed with my own eyes as the horses join, and the stallion's…length and breadth are fearsome. If nothing else, I know the tightness of my own womb, and I assure you, 'twill not fit!"_

 _At this, he throws back his head and erupts in laughter. She waits for his mirth to subside, her nostrils flaring, for she is Lady of Castle Swein and unaccustomed to laughter at her expense. When she attempts to pull away in furious indignation, he holds her tightly against his chest. Again, she feels the wonderful drumming of his heart against hers. And when his eyes meet her eyes once more, though they are still dancing with amusement, they overflow with such an abundance of love that her ire quickly dissipates._

 _He loves her, but he does not bow down to her. 'Tis one of the many things she loves about him._

" _I thank you for the comparison, my wife, but fortunately for us both, I am not built like a horse." He cradles her face between his warm hands, smiling tenderly. "My love, a man's cock is sized much more reasonably, for God intends it to be accommodated within the womb of his wife without excess pain. Then, once she has become accustomed to its size, it will provide her with the most intense pleasure for the rest of her days and nights." His thumbs stroke her cheeks soothingly. "You shall see, my love. After we have joined twice or perhaps thrice, the discomfort you now fear will subside and instead become ecstasy – an ecstasy which will consume you and have you begging me to fill you over and over."_

 _Her courage rises with his assurances and with the adoration in his eyes and touch. "Then let us begin, husband, for I am anxious to reach the heights of this pleasure of which you speak. Put your hands and mouth on me the way we both want you to, and fill me."_

 _The love and lust swirling in his gaze sets her aflame. He cradles her breasts in his hands. "I love you so, my brave wife. Your name is a beautiful song, and I shall sing it unceasingly, with your worship forever on my tongue." His mouth finds hers, as warm and ready as is the rest of her._

" _And I shall forever sing my love for you as well, my husband," she swears against his lips as he lifts and guides her over his now uncovered manhood. "As I promised you in my vows, I will worship you as I have always."_

 _And as he penetrates her, they cry out and exhale in unison into one another's mouths, breath for breath, and vow for vow. "For always."_

OOOOOOOOOO

"Bella? Hello, Earth to Bella?"

"What?" Blinking, I shook my head and shook away the memory of that morning's dream.

"Jeez, you've really been out of touch for the past few days. You didn't even meet me here last Saturday."

Kate's attention returned to her husband's underwear, which she folded with great care into precise halves and then into equal quarters. With a sigh, I resumed sorting through my mountain of black dress socks. It was Saturday morning, and she and I were in the laundromat performing what was usually one of our weekend rituals. Pausing in my search for an elusive thigh-high hose, I looked over and shot her an apologetic smile.

"I know I've been MIA, Kate, but last weekend was hectic, and this week was equally crazy."

With a sigh of her own, she looked at me again. "Are you sure you're not mad at me over last weekend?"

"Why would I be mad at you over last weekend?"

"I feel somewhat responsible for how upset you were when you left The Rooftop, and," she frowned, "I can't stop thinking that…I should've done something more than I did to prevent it."

Ignoring the tingling in the tips of my fingers at the reminder of the strange guy whom I'd met on that rooftop, I reached for Kate's hand, pulling it away from her husband's boxers and giving it a squeeze inside my own.

"Kate, I was already feeling moody that night, way before I got there. Then I happened to meet a guy, who turned out to be a jerk. It happens. End of story. You had nothing to do with it."

"All right," she conceded; although, she didn't sound entirely convinced. "What's with the circles under your eyes, Bella?"

Folding two mismatched socks together, I avoided her probing gaze in an attempt to hide any other telltale clues to my recent lack of sleep. It made no sense to worry Kate with the knowledge that all these years, had I known what sort of dreams my mind was hiding by erasing them once I awoke, I may have never wished for a better memory.

Well…except perhaps…for that morning's dream.

All in all, in the past week, my dreams had risen to a whole new level of crazy. When I opened my eyes, the dreams replayed themselves like a movie reel, and with every consecutive night, they grew in both intensity and incredibility. How could I tell her that in my mind's eye, I saw ancient volcanoes erupting over bygone cities or that I actually felt the ashes searing my skin as if I'd been there? How could I explain that the sight of faceless men shifting into horrifying beasts left me gasping for air when I awoke? How could I describe the intense heat upon my skin from the medieval castle that burned to the ground before my very eyes while knights covered in full battle gear and helmets strode through the thick flames unscathed? More than that, how could I explain to Kate, or to anyone for that matter, that with every passing night, my dreams felt less and less like dreams and more like…visions.

And that last dream, the one from early this morning…much of it had faded upon waking, but enough of it remained in my head to leave me bewildered and anxious.

Once again, I shook my head quickly to clear it, and when I noticed Kate's eyes still fixed on me, I smiled.

"Didn't you just recently tell me that I always look gorgeous?" I teased.

"I didn't imply you don't look gorgeous; I implied you look tired. You look gorgeously tired. How's that?"

I rolled my tired eyes. "Much better."

She chuckled. "What are your plans for the rest of the day, Bella? Hey, why don't you come home with me? Garrett is working 'til late tonight; we can binge on stupid reality TV shows, and you can…fall asleep on the couch." She chuckled again, making light of the offer, but I caught the edge of concern in her voice.

"Thanks, Kate, but maybe another time. I've got plans for the day." Gathering up my folded laundry into piles, I took my time arranging it all into my basket before turning back to her. "Remember the story about those star-crossed medieval lovers – the one I mentioned when we were at the club? Well, I have a couple of experts who are willing to help me further my research on the subject."

Kate paused with a stack of clothing frozen in her hands midway between the top of the table and the basket. "You mean the bullshit story you told me that the guy from your lecture hall was trying to feed you?"

I picked up my full basket and tucked it under my arm. "Turns out, it wasn't a bullshit story after all, just a highly obscure one about which only a few, select experts know."

Kate picked up her own basket. "Did you just hear yourself? Bella, that right there sounds like the biggest crock of shit ever. A few, select experts? Come on, the guy is obviously feeding you a line – and an insanity-laced one at that."

I laughed. "Believe me, I know it sounds that way, but I've already confirmed the couple's existence; that's no longer in question. Now I need to find out what happened to them. Can you imagine what researching and publishing such a tale would do for my efforts to someday achieve tenure in my department?"

"Oh yeah. I can imagine it clearly," she nodded. "Your _research_ ," with her free hand, she made air quotes around the word, "would probably end with you finding yourself accused of inappropriate fraternization with a student long before you're anywhere near tenure."

I bristled defensively. "You know, that's pretty insulting. Besides, he's not even the person with whom I'm meeting today. I'm meeting with his cousins."

For a few, long seconds, we squared off, both of us with our respective baskets tucked under our arms.

"Bella, I'm sorry, but I get the feeling that there's more to this tale than you're telling."

"There isn't," I lied. There was nothing else I could say that wouldn't give her further cause to think me unstable.

"Look, I just…" she sighed, "I feel as if I should be watching out for you, like I mucked it up once before, and now I have to redeem myself."

"Are we back to that rooftop?" I snickered. Then with a sigh, I added more sincerely, "Look, I appreciate your concern, Kate. I really do, but it's not your job to take care of me. I'm a grown woman, and I promise you, I can take care of myself." And turning around, I stepped out into the overcast Seattle morning with Kate trailing behind me. When I looked up, I froze.

Kate ran into me and dropped her basket. "Bella, my laundry!"

Edward Masen was leaning casually against a car parked in front of the laundromat. His eyes, so green this morning that they almost glowed against the backdrop of gray, were unapologetically fixed on me. When he saw me catch sight of him, his mouth turned up into a grin. And suddenly, the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, shining one of its surprisingly bright rays directly on him.

"Edward," I breathed.

"Bella, get down here and help me refold…"

The rest of Kate's words faded into the background, relegated to nothing more than vague noise. Edward's eyes locked on mine with an intensity which still made my blood quicken. My hands clenched and unclenched, no longer from the week's anxiety but with the excitement his proximity always engendered. I took the steps toward him and stopped just a few short feet away.

"What are you doing here?"

His subsequent greeting was oddly casual as if his presence before me was nothing out of the ordinary. "Good morning, Bella. How are you today?"

"I'm okay. Thanks. What are you doing here?" I repeated.

Edward and I hadn't spoken outside of class all week – an occurrence that brought me both relief and disappointment. I could no longer deny to myself, if to anyone, how much I craved him, how my body and my mind seemed to come alive around him. Even as we spoke in class about topics which once fascinated me and now seemed mundane in comparison to what was happening in my life, his gaze would sear through me. Therefore, I was afraid of what would be written all over my face if we were seen together around campus. Yet, the distance between us left me anxious and on edge. And while we carried on our pretense in class, I would catch his eyes and see his own inner struggle.

Nevertheless, despite our lack of actual communication, I'd kept my semi-promise to him regarding leaving my apartment in the evenings. I did so not because I understood it or even agreed with it, but more often than not, I was so exhausted every evening from my lack of rest the night before that I tended to fall asleep right after preparing myself a quick dinner. Then the cycle would begin again. For the rest of the night, I'd awaken at regular intervals from the depths of my disturbing dreams.

Yet now, seeing him before me and feeling the heat of his proximity, the fine hairs on my arms rising toward him, I couldn't find it in me to care about the university's or even the world's censorship. And I knew how reckless that was.

When he stepped away from the black Land Rover behind him and closed the distance between us to a mere couple of inches, my pulse raced.

"I wondered if perhaps you'd allow me to escort you to your meeting with my cousins."

"I can get there on my own." Despite everything, some part of me still rebelled against my own feelings.

"I don't doubt that you can," he assured me, unfazed, "but the restaurant where you're meeting is a bit off the beaten path, and I hate to think of you wandering around for a while trying to find it."

"Edward, how did you even know where to find me?"

"You mentioned your neighborhood to Jasper when you made plans." He shrugged. "I drove by and happened to see you walking out of the laundromat."

It was a well-delivered lie, and we both knew it. I hadn't mentioned a damn thing about my neighborhood to his cousin. Just as I was about to call him out on it, his eyes flashed away and to the side of me for a split second, which reminded me that Kate was standing by silently.

"Kate, this is Edward, a fellow…scholar of medieval times," I smiled ruefully. "Edward, this is my good friend, Kate."

Ever the gentleman, he greeted her cordially and shook her hand, yet when he fixed her with his gaze, it seemed to harden. And when he said her name, he appeared to almost choke on it with distaste.

"It's good to meet you… _Kate._ "

"It's good to meet you too, Edward. Bella has told me about the research you're helping her with, regarding some couple from the middle ages?"

"Yes," he nodded stiffly, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "We're researching a topic of mutual interest."

"I'm sorry," she chuckled humorlessly, "but I have to admit that the whole thing sounds like a crock to me."

"Kate, not now," I hissed through my teeth.

"Does it?" Edward smiled sardonically. "It's a good thing then, Kate, that Bella has her own mind, for as is often said: 'In fair weather, friends and umbrellas abound, yet when the rain falls, neither can be found.'"

Kate frowned and pressed her lips together.

I cleared my throat. "Edward, thank you for the offer. I think I'll take you up on it, but would you mind…" I held out the basket, which he quickly took from me.

"I apologize," he said contritely, "I should've taken this from you sooner. I'll just take this to the car and wait for you."

"Okay, thanks."

He nodded, but before walking away, Edward drew in a deep breath and returned his attention to Kate. "Kate, I apologize if I was rude. I truly hope that Bella _may_ count on your friendship through all of her future endeavors."

"Of course she can," Kate responded curtly.

"Very well then." With one last, long look, Edward walked to the car. We watched him deposit the basket neatly into the back seat before taking his place on the driver's side. Then Kate and I turned to one another.

"Kate, that may have been understandable had I been about sixteen, but I'm a decade past that," I seethed quietly.

"Jesus, Bella, he may as well have hauled _you_ up with that laundry basket and tucked you under his arm."

"Don't be ridiculous." I shook my head indignantly. "Look, I know he's intense, and I know that regardless of his age, he's still my student, but we're going to do research. That's it. And I don't need to explain myself here."

"Research seems to be the last thing on his mind. Bella, I met him all of five minutes ago, and I can already see how possessive he is of you. Intense isn't the word for him. I'm thinking more like…frightening."

"Why, because of the scars?" I hissed in a whisper. "Yes, he's…vehement," I qualified, "but he's not dangerous - not to me, at least."

"What the hell does that even mean, Bella?"

I chewed on the inside of my mouth, unable to provide an answer because I wasn't sure myself what I meant.

"And what scars?" Kate asked.

"The one on his face," I cradled my own right cheek to demonstrate where Edward's scar lay, "and the angry-looking one circling his wrist. But I told you, he's ex-military."

I watched as Kate swept her eyes to where Edward sat straight and rigid in the driver's seat, his eyes fixed on the windshield. Yet despite the fact that we were several feet away, speaking in hushed voices, something in his demeanor made me wonder for a second if he could hear us. Perhaps because of the way his fists were locked firmly around the steering wheel, causing the angry welt circling his wrist to turn a deeper shade of red. With the right side of his profile to us, the scar on his lower cheek, although nowhere near as pronounced as the one around his wrist, was brought into sharp focus by how tightly he squared his jaw.

"Is the scar you're talking about on the other side of his face?"

I looked back at Kate. "Kate, it's right there," I whispered impatiently, "the thin, pink line where no stubble grows."

She frowned, squinting her eyes.

I sucked my teeth. "The one around his wrist is pretty obvious from here."

"Is it on his other-"

"No, not on his other wrist. It's _right there_."

She turned back to me with a blank expression.

"I know you saw them. I saw you staring at his face when I introduced you and at his wrist when you shook hands."

"I stared at his face because despite how good-looking he is, and despite his initial cool and calm manners, the angry glare he gave me right off the bat scared the ever-living shit out of me. And I stared at his hand because he had the coldest hand I've _ever_ felt."

"What? His hands aren't cold," I contradicted, recalling the heat of his touch when he weaved our fingers together at the beginning of the week.

She quirked a brow. "Bella, _I_ don't see scars, and his hand felt frigid as fucking ice to _me_ , but whatever. All that is nothing to his possessiveness over _you_."

"He's not-"

"Yes, he is, and you know it."

"You're overstepping, Kate."

"I'm sorry. But please, just be careful. He's extremely good-looking, yes, but there's something frightening about him, Bella."

We said hasty and cool goodbyes. Then, Edward stepped out of the car to open my door when he saw me approaching.

"Do you want to drop off your laundry first?" he asked.

"No, we can just go from here."

"If that's what you prefer."

We drove in a tension-filled silence with so many things unsaid that I had no idea where to begin. It soon dawned on me that, as intense as some of our conversations had been, Edward and I had never experienced such a private level of intimacy before. We were confined in a car, with no prying eyes and no one around to know or to care what happened between us. The heat of his proximity multiplied as I realized this, and it was all I could do not to reach out to him.

I swallowed, fisting my anxious hands at my sides as I tried and failed to focus on the passing scenery, which blurred by alongside the cloud-filled sky. We crossed the train tracks into Seattle's industrial district, bordered on one side by the dark, polluted waters of the Duwamish River, and on the other by abandoned factories and warehouses-turned-bohemian-art-studios and bars.

"I apologize if I caused any problems between you and your friend."

"You were rude to her."

"Again, I apologize." His eyes remained stoically fixed on the windshield in a way that made me think he was forcing them to remain there. It made the knots that already existed in my stomach tighten, my hands opening and closing repeatedly.

"She was rude to you too. Do you…do you know her from somewhere?" I asked.

His jaw clenched, the thin scar protruding. And suddenly, I found myself wondering if Kate pretended not to see the scars.

"No, Bella, I don't know her."

When he reached for my hand and weaved our fingers together, all the tension in my body disappeared. I shut my eyes, flooded with the warmth of his touch. I heard him exhale his own breath of relief as I simultaneously thought to myself how wrong Kate was. Edward's hand was fire branding me with its heat.

Eyes firmly on the windshield, he picked up our linked hands and brought them to his mouth. And as I watched him brush his lips tenderly against my skin, the heat multiplied.

"Don't be uneasy," he murmured, resting our entwined hands on his thigh.

"That's easier said than done," I murmured, keeping my gaze on his profile and on our joined hands. He squeezed it tight.

"I could no longer keep myself from touching you. This week has been…torturous."

"For me as well," I admitted. "You have no idea."

He snorted and gave me a sidelong glance, sighing as he looked away. "I had hoped that asking you to hold off on the research until you met with my cousins would be somewhat of a reprieve for you, but you still did not sleep well this week."

"How do you know that?"

"Your eyes, Bella," he responded quickly. "You look tired - beautiful, but tired," he observed much as Kate had earlier. "I wish there was an easier way."

I angled myself toward him. "There is. You can tell me everything, Edward. If you want to help me sleep again, then tell me what's going on."

His beautiful face contorted into an expression of pure agony. "We must wait, Bella."

"No, we _mustn't_ ," I contradicted. "Edward, I don't _have_ to meet with your cousins. We don't _have_ to do this in some strange, piecemeal fashion. You and I…" I picked up our joined hands, and when I rested them over my quickly beating heart, Edward exhaled a long breath through narrowed lips. "I _know_ there's something between us, something of which you know so much more than I do."

"And yet that's not true, Bella," he hissed. " _You_ know." His nostrils flared, and when he turned his full attention to me, the road before us a secondary concern, his eyes were full of fire. "Bella, do you honestly believe that I'm not dying to tell you everything? Do you think the words – the very ones that would open your eyes - aren't on the tip of my tongue every second we're together? Do you think this doesn't kill me, seeing you suffer this way and being unable to…?" With a frustrated groan, he turned back to the windshield angrily. "Do you think it isn't pure torture having to wait even _more_?"

"Then just tell me, _please_ ," I pleaded.

He breathed heavily through his nostrils, shaking his head. "It's not right. It's not how it must happen, and you're not ready. I promised myself that I would wait until you were ready."

"And I promised Kate there was nothing between us beyond research. Yet right or wrong means nothing now."

"Right or wrong will _never_ stop us, Bella, which is why we're here." He snorted. "You and I, we are impatient creatures, yet I dread your reaction when you do know everything."

"Jesus, what does that mean, Edward?"

I hadn't realized he'd stopped the car and parked in front of a red-brick warehouse, with large, circular graffiti marking its conversion into a motorcycle shop.

Edward frowned darkly at the clouded sky, glaring at it accusingly. "Why must you and I always be in conflict - even if your career were not the impediment now?"

"You want to know what I think? I think you enjoy speaking in riddles."

He looked at me and chuckled humorlessly. "I don't enjoy it, but I promise you, it will all make sense soon, for better or for worse."

My eyes narrowed. "I suppose I have no other choice but to accept that – for now." His lips pressed together, and I saw he meant to provide nothing else. With a frustrated breath, I took in my surroundings to calm myself down.

"I'm nervous."

"I can tell." He smiled wistfully when I looked at him. "Your hands are jittery. Don't worry. The neighborhood is a bit on the rough side, but it's improved vastly over the years."

"I'm not worried about the neighborhood," I chuckled shortly, scanning the streets again. "I'm nervous about meeting your cousins."

"They've both been anxiously awaiting you for quite some time."

Frowning, I checked my watch. "We agreed on noon, and it's only eleven-thirty. So unless my watch is wrong, we're early."

He stared at me for a couple of seconds before answering. "Yes," he sighed tiredly. "Yes, I suppose we are."

"Then let's not keep them waiting." I moved to open my door.

Suddenly, I found myself pressed flush against my seat, with Edward hovering over me, his eyes dark and hungry, and his mouth so close to mine that I could taste the warmth of his breath. With every one of my senses heightened by desire, I waited because right or wrong held no sway on me in this moment, and I had a feeling that when it came to Edward, neither crossed his mind now either. So when he pressed his lips to the corner of my mouth, I exhaled a breath full of heady need and longing.

"Edward, put your mouth and hands on me the way we both want you to."

He stiffened for a moment, and then he groaned, moving his hands up to cradle my breasts. I expelled a few uneven breaths as with featherlike strokes, his mouth trailed from my cheek to my ear. He inhaled deeply as he went, breathing in my skin, ghosting his thumbs over my nipples.

His warm breath reached my ear. "You torture me, body and soul, Bella. Your naïve recklessness always has."

"I'm a twenty-six-year-old woman, Edward. I am _not_ naïve," I hissed, although I couldn't deny the charge of recklessness.

He chuckled, his lips on my earlobe, and the pain in his strangled voice acute. "Ah, but you know not what you're asking."

"I do," I breathed. "I know what I want."

"Bella…Bella…your name…your name is a…" He made another strangled sound before dropping his forehead to my neck, his hands falling to my waist.

"Christ's love, Bella, how I've needed you."

I was overcome by the sensation that he and I had come together this way a thousand times before, whispering our mutual need, his head tucked into the crook of my collar, my hand lost in his soft hair. When he brushed his nose back and forth along the vein in my neck, an unimaginable wave of desire coursed through me, making me squirm as I felt the pulse of my blood throb thickly, pounding just underneath his warm, open mouth and against the moist tongue that darted from between his lips.

"The scent of your skin…of your…"

And through it all, my mind screamed that I was playing with a blazing fire in ways I couldn't even fathom.

"Edward…"

He picked up his head quickly and urgently as if my voice had broken him out of a trance. His chest heaved, and his eyes were wild and undeniably pure black, swirling with lust and longing and a hunger almost primal in its rawness.

"Jesus above, what am I doing? What am I _doing_?" His voice broke, thick and hoarse. "Of all the..." He blinked profusely, pulling away so fast I didn't even see him move. And when his features contorted in loathing and self-reproach, in that moment…in that moment, I could see how Kate found him frightening.

"Edward, don't," I said, reaching for him, but he jerked away from my touch.

"Just tell me something. _Anything_. Your name…your name means-"

"It means beautiful. My father once told me that my mother planned to name me Marie, like her mother, but when I was born, she had a dream and changed her mind out of the blue." My voice shook, yet I kept talking because I could sense his need for distraction, for something to ground him. "Some people think it's short for Isabella, but-"

"But it's not," he finished for me. "It's just Bella."

"Yes," I smiled. "It's just Bella."

For a long while, he held me locked in his gaze, and then he finally exhaled and took my hand again, holding it tightly…possessively within his.

"Bella…I pray fervently that when you have all your answers, you'll still want me."

I couldn't provide him any answer. My throat was too dry to speak.

Edward sighed, and with a look of resignation, he opened his car door. "Come. Let's go."

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **We should resume regular postings from here on in – every Monday unless something comes up. Who knows? I may even be able to squeeze in an extra update here and there once in a while.**

 **To those of you still in the holiday spirit, I wrote a one-shot you might enjoy reading, called "Angels for Christmas." You can find it on page on Fanfiction. :)**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook: Stories by PattyRose**

 **See you all on Monday!**


	10. Chapter 10 - The Hidden Garden

**A/N: Thank you so much for all your wonderful thoughts.**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes. (All remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is all mine.**

 **Chapter 10 – The Secret Garden**

* * *

The recently industrial now turned eclectic neighborhood of Georgetown was lined with old, decrepit buildings and abandoned warehouses where seamy bars carried on business adjacent to boutique coffeehouses, art galleries and tattoo joints. With his hand firmly on the small of my back, Edward led me past dilapidated storefronts and converted red-brick breweries now housing bakeries and record shops. When we walked by a group of bikers hanging out on a street corner, I tensed, aware of their usually harmless yet still uncomfortable propensity for wolfish whistles and inappropriate comments. But although the sudden hush of their boisterous conversation indicated we hadn't gone unnoticed, not one word was uttered in our direction.

The rest of the walk to the restaurant where Edward's cousins, Jasper and Emmett, awaited us was just as roundabout as I'd come to expect from everything involving Mr. Masen. He directed me left then right, up wide blocks and down narrow alleyways. The last alley we traversed looked as if the neighborhood garbage truck had neglected its duty there for quite some time.

And this was where Edward stopped, in front of a graffiti-pocked iron door with no sign nor indication of what the hell the place was.

"Seriously?"

"Trust me."

"I mean, we drove here in your car, and you've just wound me around a literal concrete maze, so I don't see that I have much of a choice." I smiled at him so he'd know I was teasing. For some admittedly insane and inexplicable reason, I did trust him…with my life.

He snorted, a small, cynical smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he shook his head. "Bella, you _always_ have a choice. But come. You'll see."

I stepped in warily, because despite the fact that I wasn't worried that he was leading me to my death, I wouldn't have put it past the decaying building to fall on top of us. Edward remained at my side, his warm fingers now loosely tangled with mine, keeping them still.

"Relax," he chuckled softly in my ear.

The entrance hall was so dark it was like walking into a cave. When my eyes finally acclimated to the dim light, I broke out into loud fits of laughter. Behind me, Edward laughed as well, squeezing my hand reassuringly.

The restaurant, if one could call it that, appeared a thousand years old and came complete with stone and wood-paneled walls lined with colorful coat-of-arms tapestries as well as shields with what resembled ancient family crests. A round, iron chandelier encircled by lit white tapered candles hung high from the wood-beamed ceiling. Solid wooden tables and chairs filled the long room, and barrels of what I assumed was ale were stacked alongside the bar. This bar was manned by women dressed in long flowing skirts and tight bodices, showcasing swelled breasts as they ambled around carrying trays full of tall, wooden tankards. In one corner, a group of men sat around laughing and drinking from their tankards.

"You've got to be kidding me." I laughed, turning amused eyes up toward Edward. "A cheesy, medieval tavern?"

"'Tis a cheesy establishment, I admit," he replied, grinning crookedly and exaggerating his old world accent, "but I assure you, it has its redeeming qualities."

"Such as the busty bar wenches?" I quirked a brow.

"No," he smirked, appearing somewhat offended as he led us across the room, "not the bar wenches. The fish and chips are rumored to be surprisingly tasty."

"Really?" I said dubiously. "And what else?"

"What else?" he echoed. "Well, we'll see."

I'd entertained thoughts of heading to a quiet, hidden little table in a shadowy corner, where two men resembling their cousin Edward would be waiting under cover of darkness, shoulders bent and hunched, heads low in an effort to remain inconspicuous. Yet, when we reached the end of the room, Edward walked us toward another door.

"What a shame. Are we leaving already?" I smiled playfully up at him.

He snorted as he held the door open. "Not exactly." This time, when I walked through, there was no darkness nor laughter. Instead, I lost all the air in my lungs in one long breath.

The midday sun gleamed over pathways brimming with raised flowerbeds full of colorful roses, white lilies, and pink peonies. Stone pavers led to rows of wild cherry trees shading the perimeter, which was enclosed by oak trellises swarming with climbing ivy. In the center of this little piece of Eden, bright green lotus leaves floated like bubbles over a crystalline pond encircling the concrete fountain of a roman goddess emptying her pitcher into a gurgling stream. Tadpoles jumped from leaf to leaf, and birds flitted from tree to tree, and I'd been secreted into an unknown corner of Paradise.

" _Ohh…"_

Edward rested his warm hands on my shoulders, and when he leaned into my ear, he whispered, " _This_ is the other redeeming quality."

Mesmerized, I walked away and strolled through the garden, my fingertips reaching out to touch flowers, plants, and trees. Up and down the pathways, I smiled in amazed enchantment at everything I found. Closing my eyes, I lifted my head to the sun, feeling calmer than I'd felt in ages. So relaxed, in fact, that as I meandered around, I completely forgot that I wasn't actually in some medieval English garden enjoying a warm, summer day. Rather, I was in a beautiful replica of one, preparing to meet with a couple of men who would hopefully shed light on the mystery which my life had suddenly become.

When I did recall my surroundings, I turned in a circle, searching the enchanted garden for the man who'd brought me here.

"Edward?"

"I'm right here, Bella."

He wasn't far, just a few yards away at the other end of the garden standing with two men around a table set for four. Three sets of eyes suddenly took me in with varied expressions. With a deep breath, I made my way over to where they waited.

The man to Edward's right was much younger-looking than I'd expected, especially considering the vast array of knowledge he supposedly possessed on our topic of interest. In fact, I quickly assessed that he couldn't have been in more than his early twenties. His hair, cropped short and spiked at the top and to the middle in a faux Mohawk, was so blond it was almost white. He seemed about Edward's height or an inch or so shorter, but somewhat lankier.

When I swept my gaze to Edward's left, my heart squeezed inside my chest.

I wasn't sure why. This cousin was built quite differently from the other two – much bigger in both height and brawn than both Edward and the blond-haired young man. Perhaps I reacted differently because where the blond cousin appeared openly friendly, this one radiated a tense excitement similar yet somehow different to that which always radiated off of Edward. As I neared, he drew in a few uneven breaths and took a step toward me. Quickly, both Edward and the blond one rested a hand on either one of his shoulders as if holding him back.

"Hello," I smiled at all three men.

They all stared at me mutely.

The blond was the first to reach out a hand. "Professor Cullen it's a deep honor to finally make your acquaintance." It was his eyes which set me at ease; they were open, intelligent, welcoming, and as bright blue as Edward's were glowing green.

"The honor is all mine. And please, call me Bella."

"Bella." The corners of his eyes crinkled with his smile. "Trust me; the honor is _ours_."

Deciding not to argue about who held what honor, I asked instead, "You are…?"

"Forgive us," the blond chuckled. "We are behaving like barbarians. I'm Jasper - Jasper Whitlock, at your service, my lady."

I chuckled at the chivalrous yet archaic greeting. "Hello, Jasper."

The tall, brawny guy reached for my hand next. "Bella, I'm _Emmett_." He held on to my hand and my gaze somewhat expectantly.

"Emmett…?" When I prompted for a surname, he exhaled heavily, releasing my hand. A flicker of deep disappointment appeared to cross over his features.

"These days, I go by Emmett McCarty."

Then he laughed, a contagious sort of laugh that made me laugh along with him even though I had no idea about what we were laughing. "Bella," he repeated almost wistfully, "it's…wonderful to meet you."

Edward cleared his throat. He pulled out a chair and swept his hand in a gesture indicating that I should sit. That seemed to recall the other two to action once more. All three pushed in my chair.

"Why, thank you," I furrowed my brow, grinning in amusement. "You both seem to share your cousin's chivalrous manners."

Once I was situated comfortably, Edward's cousins took their seats. Edward remained standing behind me.

"So, you're all cousins."

"Yes," Jasper grinned.

"All with different surnames. Masen, Whitlock, McCarty. I assume then that the relationship is through maternal lines?"

Once more, the other two men were struck mute. "Yes, Bella, we're related through our mothers," Edward answered.

"Then you're all lucky to have had a nice-sized family. I myself have no cousins or siblings."

Still, the two cousins were silent.

"I mean I do see the resemblance."

"Do you?" Jasper enquired curiously, lifting a brow. "How so?"

"Well, your eyes," I pointed out, looking from one set of eyes to the other and the other. "Not the color, obviously. The three of you have different color eyes, but they all have that same…brightness within them, almost like they're glowing. I assume it's a family trait?"

"Yes," Edward said. "Yes, it's definitely a family trait."

We made some more small talk, which felt stunted at first. One of the bar wenches appeared carrying a tray, which she set on the table before us. There was a large order of fish and chips, four small plates and glasses, and a pitcher of lemonade.

"Ooh, this does smell amazing."

When the wench stepped back, grinning broadly at all three men before reluctantly sashaying away, Edward stepped forward and picked up a plate. "I'll serve you."

"Thanks, but how about you?"

"I had a large breakfast," he said.

"As did we," Emmett added.

"Please, enjoy," Jasper said. "We've eaten here previously, and we are aware of how…tasty the fish and chips are."

"Okay," I shrugged, my mouth watering too much to pass up the delicious-looking meal.

So for the next hour or so, as I ate the fish and chips while the men watched, we slowly fell into an eventually easy banter. I found that both of Edward's cousins shared another trait similar to him. While they were friendly, they were also a bit strange. Jasper appeared the most open, while Emmett seemed to be almost as intense as Edward. Yet just as with Edward, I didn't feel intimidated or uncomfortable with either of them. In fact, by the time the bar wench appeared to clear the table, I felt more at ease with all three men than I'd ever felt with any man – including my own father – in my entire life.

"Edward, you were right," I said, turning and smiling up at him. "That was absolutely delicious."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, Bella." He held my gaze tenderly before moving his eyes to Emmett. "Emmett, are you ready?"

Emmett sighed almost reluctantly. "Yes, I suppose I am."

"Where are you going?"

Jasper lay a hand on my forearm as if we'd been friends for ages, and it almost felt as if we had been. "Bella, I believe you and I have some research to do?"

"Oh my God," I chuckled, "I've been so relaxed that I almost forgot."

Edward leaned into my ear. "I'm glad you've been relaxed. I thought you might enjoy this atmosphere. But now," he added, his voice soft and soothing, "Emmett and I will remove to the tavern. When you're finished, I'll return and escort you home."

I turned my head sideways to meet his gaze, which was now at my eye level. "But I thought, since you came with me, that you'd stay for the rest."

He spoke in a whisper meant only for me. "Remember what I said about my being an impatient creature?"

I nodded.

"If I stayed, Bella, I would most likely blurt things out, and then Jasper would be very upset with me, for he is the expert on this part of your research." He grinned teasingly, but there was truth in his eyes.

"And I'll be the one to assist you with the next portion, Bella," Emmett smiled, excitement dancing in his brown eyes, "when we discuss…Bellaria's family."

"I do wish I could just have all the information at once," I hedged hopefully. Unfortunately, like their cousin Edward, they didn't go for it and instead, they simply stared at me.

"But it seems you're all determined," I sighed.

"Bella, you'll soon understand why this way is necessary," Jasper said.

"That's what I've been told," I muttered.

Edward chuckled and pushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear before straightening out his long legs. "I'll see you in a short while."

"Have fun with those busty bar wenches," I smirked.

He rolled his eyes in a playful manner that took me by surprise. "Not likely, Bella, not likely."

When both he and Emmett disappeared inside, Jasper and I studied one another. Then he turned his gaze upward to the blue afternoon sky.

"Beautiful weather we've had this afternoon," he noted. "Although, there appear to be a few clouds on the horizon. I wonder why." His bright blue eyes returned to me as if waiting for my input.

"Well, it _is_ Washington."

"It is. Are you uneasy, Bella?"

"A bit," I admitted, and then I qualified quickly, "but not because of you. It's just the topic we're about to discuss makes me nervous."

"I suppose I can understand that." He smiled empathetically as if he really did understand something which was honestly incomprehensible. "Well then, we'll enjoy the clear weather while it lasts."

I wondered silently at the incongruity of his statements. "I've always loved the warmer weather, the sun…nature…"

"And yet you live in Seattle?"

"Yes," I laughed sheepishly. "But there's lots of nature to be had here in Washington. The town where I grew up was surrounded by the most glorious mountains. It's one of the few things I miss about living there. Besides, I've always thought the sunnier days can be more appreciated when they're no around every day."

He nodded slowly. "Very true, and before we know it, the summer solstice will be upon us."

"The longest day of the year, and then the days get shorter and the cycle begins all over again."

"It is a very important day, yes." He was somber for a moment. "Our lives are ruled by cycles, are they not? Some unbreakable, some…" His hands folded neatly together over the table, and despite his age, it was he who suddenly seemed more like the teacher between us. "Tell me, Bella, do you believe that a cycle may be broken?"

"It depends on the cycle. As you said, there are some, such as the life cycle, for example, which can't be broken."

"But perhaps altered?"

"I don't believe so, no," I smiled.

"Well," he shrugged lightly, unfazed, "perhaps what I should say is that the world sometimes attempts to teach us lessons which we need more than one lifetime to learn. Let's take the events of World War Two as an example. Some might say that was simply history repeating itself, for we have had tyrants all throughout history."

"Julius Caesar, Genghis Khan, Stalin…" I enumerated.

"Yes, all good examples. In some ways, you can say that some of these tyrants have been reincarnations of those that came before them."

"I can see that…metaphorically," I conceded.

"It is only as we develop as a civilization that we learn how to defeat these tyrants. Yet some tyrants are not as well known, perhaps their crimes were not committed on such a grand scale. Then…perhaps…it is not as a civilization that we must learn to defeat them, but as individuals, to ensure that their atrocities are not repeated throughout history. Unfortunately, sometimes, we need more than one try in learning how to defeat them."

"Well, yes. I can see that as well, in the grand scheme of things. Unfortunately, nature doesn't always work that way. It doesn't always give us that extra try."

"Sometimes, however, it does, and unless we learn the lessons intended for us, history will continue repeating itself until we do."

I frowned. "Jasper, I'm not sure I see how this relates to…"

I trailed off as Jasper reached around his chair and into a bag hanging from it, pulling out a laptop on which he typed away while I waited rather impatiently.

"Tyrants and conquerors; many times the difference is merely semantics. Bella, who was one of the great conquerors of Western Civilization's Middle Ages?"

"William the Conqueror," I said matter-of-factly.

"Exactly. I assume you're familiar with the PASE database?"

"Of course." Every student of the Middle Ages was familiar with the Prosopography of Anglo-Saxon England. "The database which records all available information regarding the inhabitants of England from the sixth to the eleventh century. But Jasper, I've already searched it for Bellaria and found nothing-"

"Not for Bellaria." He lifted his eyes away from the laptop and smiled indulgently at me. "For William. He would be in there, would he not?"

"Definitely, but I already know basically all there is to know about William."

"I don't doubt that you do," he replied, "but indulge me for a moment. Perhaps it's not King William himself whom we need to find out about."

Opening up the database, I watched him type in his search. "The PASE database is populated with information gathered from a few different sources, the main one which is-"

"Domesday book," I interjected, "which was created by the order of King William himself. It recorded what taxes were owed to the crown as well as all major landowners and castles. It's one of the most invaluable primary sources of the middle ages for modern historians and historical economists."

"That it is. So let's work backwards for a minute. We know that Bellaria was a noble lady, and if we know, thanks to Domesday Book, that at the beginning of the Norman conquest most of all landholdings were held by Normans themselves, then it would stand to reason that Bellaria was a lady of one of these castles." He kept typing away.

"True."

A database list of the major castles in Norman-ruled England, listed by name and shire or county, popped onto the screen

"The castles belonged to Barons, who'd originally helped William conquer Britain."

While he spoke, my eyes scanned the list, most of the castle names meaning little to me beyond what history may have recorded of them. Then…I reached out and touched the screen with the tip of my finger.

"Strange."

"What?"

"This one castle – it has no name."

"Well, what does it say?" he prompted as if he wasn't looking at the same screen as I.

"According to this, it was a castle in Yorkshire, which burned down in 1086, the same year Domesday Book was released." I frowned.

"What else?" he questioned further.

"It doesn't even list the baron of the castle's name, which is very unusual. It's as if any reference to him was purposely excluded."

"Does it have any information for the castle?"

"Yes. There's one name: Lady…Resmae."

I swallowed thickly and closed my eyes, my heart again squeezing as painfully as it did when I saw Emmett.

"Are you well, Bella?" Jasper asked softly.

It was a couple of minutes before I could open my eyes and manage a faint smile. "I'm okay, thanks. I guess it was the fish and chips."

Jasper said nothing for a few seconds. "Shall we search for Lady Resmae?" he inquired gently.

"Yes." My voice came out hoarse. "Yes," I repeated with more strength. "Yes, let's search for…her."

With a nod, Jasper returned to his laptop, quickly finding what we were looking for in the database. He pulled back, and I turned my eyes to the screen.

"Lady Resmae," I breathed. "She was a cousin to William. Upon settlement in England, he arranged her marriage to one of his barons as a reward for his loyalty in the fight. But it doesn't list the baron's name."

I closed my eyes again, this time with images from a millennium suddenly assaulting me: another arranged marriage between a noblewoman and a man whom she did not love.

"History repeats itself," I murmured almost to myself.

When I reopened my eyes, Jasper was watching me carefully. "They say every book ever written falls under one of five arcs, and each arc involves the rise and/or fall of the self. Likewise, History is merely a repetition of the past. Events do not always happen in exactly the same manner, no. There are subtle differences, but the basics remain the same."

"What happened to Lady Resmae?" I questioned anxiously, suddenly desperate to know more about her. "And how does she tie in with Bellaria?"

Jasper sighed. "That is the part where Emmett will assist you."

"Can't we dig a little deeper now? We're getting really close. I can _feel_ it," I pleaded.

"My lady, the sun will soon begin its descent."

I scanned my surroundings. The sun was no longer high in the sky. Instead, it peeked through the cherry trees' branches, bathing the entire garden in a warm, golden glow.

"I didn't realize it'd gotten so late." I gave him a wistful smile. "Thank you, Jasper, for all your help today. I feel very…comfortable with you as if I've known you for a long time."

"Or in another lifetime," he smiled in return.

"Yes," I snorted. "Something like that."

He chuckled softly and shook his head. "Time, which sometimes tends to transpire in stagnant tedium, passes much more enjoyably when you're with a kindred lover of research. I once knew a lady…she was the great wife of a great man. When they married, it was she who first taught me to read and write, and it was she who instilled a love for knowledge and the written word in me."

"She sounds like she was quite a woman."

"She still is."

A noise behind us made us both turn. Edward and Emmett were approaching us.

"There they come," I murmured, keeping my eyes on Edward.

"Yes, there they come," Jasper replied. "Both moving much slower than they'd prefer to and eager to move things along."

I turned my eyes to Jasper. "Aren't you?"

"Yes, but while I know that once you have all the pieces, it will all click into place, I also know that you will…understand and accept much easier if you put it together yourself rather than having one of us complete it for you."

"You're as much a man of riddles as is your cousin," I smirked.

He let out a short laugh. "What sound like riddles now will be quite clear soon enough. Just keep your mind open, Bella. It will all click in place." His eyes flashed back behind me. "I apologize, but will you please excuse me for a minute? I must have a quick word with my cousins." He pushed back his chair and waited for my response before standing.

"Of course, Jasper."

I watched him approach Emmett and Edward, who waited a few feet away. When they spoke, I knew it was about me. They tried to be covert about it by looking up at the trees and examining their fingernails. But the expressions dancing across Edward's face…the way he swallowed and frowned, the way he tugged on his hair gave it all away. There were dark frowns and quiet hisses of which I couldn't make heads or tails, but at one point, Jasper made no effort to disguise the fact that he was looking right at me. He looked up and held my gaze, and his mouth moved around words that I couldn't hear, yet somehow, it almost felt as if he was speaking them directly to me.

OOOOOOOOOO

Edward and I drove back to my apartment in silence. He held my hand within his the entire way, keeping it warm. When he parked the car in front of my building, we simply sat there for a while. Outside, the sun left an orange glow on the horizon, which was mere minutes from disappearing into the ground.

"Was Jasper able to help you?" he finally asked.

"He certainly gave me a lot to think about," I revealed. "Not that I'm sure I understand much of it."

"Perhaps when you're upstairs," his eyes trailed upward to my building, "it will begin to fall into place."

"Maybe." My heart raced the way it always did around him. Every fiber of my being awake to his heady presence, even more now that I'd felt his mouth on my skin, his hands on me. I craved _him_ as much as I wanted answers – perhaps even more.

"It's strange to know that the three of you know everything, yet you make me work for it."

He opened his mouth to respond.

"And before you say it," I smiled ruefully, "I know. It _has_ to be this way."

He gave me an apologetic side-glance. "Emmett will help you tomorrow…and after that…after that, you will have most of the information, Bella." He turned his head and held my gaze with those incredibly green eyes of his. Then with a deep sigh, he looked away once more.

"Please do not venture out again this evening."

I dropped my head and shook it from side to side. "Where would I go?" I snorted. Then, angling myself completely toward him, I wrapped my free hand around his and drew in a deep breath. "Maybe…if you came upstairs and stayed with me, then you could make sure I didn't go anywhere."

My chest heaved wildly as he scrutinized me, his eyes darkened, and his features abruptly hardening.

"If I went upstairs, Bella, we both know what that would lead to."

"Maybe that's exactly why I'm inviting you up."

For a long while, he said nothing. He just kept staring at me. Then shaking his head, he chuckled, but it was a cold, angry sound, and he returned his gaze to the windshield.

"Times have certainly changed. Did you know I was married once, Bella?"

I drew in a sharp breath, feeling as if all the wind had been knocked out of me.

"You were married?"

He nodded slowly, a small smile playing on his lips. When he spoke, his voice shook. "She was…she was everything: beautiful, intelligent, brave," he breathed, completely lost in thought. "She would walk through gardens much like the one you saw today, and her fingers would touch every surface, for she loved nature. She had an innate curiosity, and she loved learning and exploring. When we would make love…it was more than a physical joining. It was the joining of two souls who knew they belonged together for an eternity. How could I ever settle for less?" He whipped his head toward me so quickly that I gasped and jerked back, my eyes widening at the fire brimming in his eyes. "How could I ever make love to a woman who is not she, _my_ _wife_?" he hissed through clenched teeth. "A woman who looks at me and does not _see_ her husband? Anything less than that…" he shook his head vehemently, nostrils flaring. "Anything less than that would be insufficient after what we once shared."

My heart felt as if it would pound right out of my chest, my breaths expelling themselves in long and deep pants, no longer from anxiousness but from the sudden rage coursing through me, making the blood in my veins boil. My hands opened and closed rapidly at my sides. Outside, the wind picked up, sending the corner garbage cans lids flying everywhere, old newspapers floating in the gusts. Edward shifted his gaze to the windshield and then back to me, swallowing hard.

"Bella-"

I reached for the door handle. "Thank you for your help today, but I can find my own way to the restaurant tomorrow." I spoke through clenched teeth, the ire in my voice barely under control as I turned and jerked open the door, slamming it closed behind me. I stalked toward the apartment vestibule. Thunder rumbled and rolled in the distance.

"Bella, please. Please," Edward pleaded from behind me, "I did not mean to-"

I spun around. "You didn't mean to what? To compare me to your perfect wife and find me lacking or to make me feel like a whore?"

"Christ's Love," he said in a strangled voice, raking a hand through his hair. "I would never imply such a thing, and don't you ever say it! Damn it, open your mind, for the love of God! I beg of you! Open your mind!"

"Mr. Masen, I'm done with your riddles and with the way you leave me frustrated in every possible way. Goodbye."

"Bella, please!"

I stepped inside the vestibule.

OOOOOOOOOO

 _In the first dream, she hears the woman scream as the child tears through her womb, yet when she hears its lusty cries, relief and an inexplicable sense of peace course through her. The woman's legs drop. Beads of perspiration drip from her brow, both from the heat of the Mediterranean and from sheer exhaustion. And as the midwife prepares the child, the woman's eyes move to the window, where she sees the great mountain in the distance. The woman wonders where he, her lover, is at this moment of their child's birth while her husband waits in the other room, believing himself a father._

 _All those thoughts leave the woman as the child is placed on her breast to suckle. And the moment when the woman looks at her daughter, she knows. She simply knows._

" _The dreams…they were true. We are the descendants…I am the next…"_

…

" _Tis a difficult birth. She may not survive," she hears them say while the woman screams in agony. Yet the next image is not from above, as with the first dream, but from below the woman's face._

" _A girl child! Lord Karles will be upset, for he expected a spare!"_

 _The woman ignores them and smiles down at the perfect child in her arms, tears streaming down her cheeks._

" _The dreams…" she says tiredly, "they were true…we are the descendants…you are the one…"_

… _.._

 _Her brother walks into the nursery where she has been banished by her father for her latest act of disobedience. He is seven years her senior, tall and strong where she is petite and fragile. At eighteen years of age, he, along with his closest friend, the handsome knight, can have any maiden in the land._

" _Father does not care for me," she says matter-of-factly._

" _He cares for no one," her brother clarifies. Then he pulls her into his arms. "Do not concern yourself, Sister. As long as I am around, I will not allow him to harm you."_

 _She pulls away and smiles at him. "Gramercy, Brother. I am glad I have you, for who would love me if I did not?"_

…

 _He runs after her through the tall fields of wheat, and her heart races, her fingers skimming the blades and feeling them grow under her touch. When he grabs her by the waist and easily overtakes her, she screams as he pulls her down over the honey-toned blades, which tickle her arms and thighs as he pulls her skirts up and melts over her. She laughs and laughs in pure, unadulterated joy. He silences her with a long kiss, his tongue stroking hers, his hardened manhood pressed between her legs._

" _You can run to the ends of the earth," he murmurs against her lips as he holds her arms prone above her head with one hand, and with the other, he opens his breeches, "yet I will always find you."_

" _And I will always allow you to catch me," she teases him, biting his bottom lip, then his top._

" _Allow me?" He pulls his head back and quirks a brow as he positions himself. "I would not say you are in any position to simply allow me anything." He is teasing her, and he grins crookedly as he consumes her mouth and pushes in the swollen tip of that wonderful part of him._

" _Yet we both know that is not true," she breathes, feeling him throbbing just at her entrance. She squirms under him so that he knows he must wait, and wait he does. "For I have a choice, my husband, do I not?" She gazes into his warm, green, lust-filled eyes, pushing back a copper strand of hair from his forehead. She does so love his locks long the way they are now so that she can fist it between her hands when she climbs him and rides him like a stallion. But she does not want his hair hampering his vision while in battle, and so she will cut it for him soon before he must leave again._

" _You will always have a choice, my wife," he murmurs sincerely._

 _At his admission, she parts her legs wider for him, lifting her feet and resting them on his thighs to use them as leverage to push him in all the way. Her back arches as they both cry out when he fills her to her very core. What she feels with him is beyond the pleasure of which he once spoke. There are no words for what she feels when her husband makes love to her._

 _She cradles his face in her hands as he moves inside her. With every deep and powerful stroke, he more than penetrates her body and soul. He marks her as his for an eternity._

" _And I will always choose you, my husband."_

…

 _She's back in the garden behind the tavern, sitting at the table while the sun begins its descent, sparkling like a dark yellow topaz lost in a river. The three men are there as well, standing a few feet away after Jasper has just excused himself to go talk with them. Now, they whisper amongst themselves so lowly and quickly…but now…she can hear them…_

" _Is there no other way?" Edward asks._

" _You know the only other way," Jasper responds. "And it would take months with no guarantee that she would choose you to be a part of it."_

 _He shuts his eyes painfully, and when they reopen, they're dark and tortured. "If it would ease things for her, I would take the chance of not being her choice, that she could love someone else…that she could…"_

" _It would_ _ **not**_ _ease things for her. What's more, we do not have the luxury of time now that we know what we know. For her own safety, she must learn the truth quickly."_

" _She_ _ **will**_ _be safe from now on," Edward hisses fiercely. "I will not fail her again. Ever."_

" _You did not fail her, for you did not know what my father would do. But now,_ _ **we**_ _will never allow them to harm her again," Emmett adds with a dark growl._

" _No, we will not," Jasper agrees, "but this time,_ _ **she**_ _is not helpless. In the past, her descendants only had one way of knowing. She never reached that point, which is why things occurred as they did. This time, she will know who she is."_

" _She has nightmares which leave her mind bewildered," Edward grits through a tight jaw, fisting his hair. "I cannot bear to see her that way much longer."_

" _You know they are not mere nightmares, Edward. They are a part of her gift, and once she begins to understand them, they will no longer leave her floundering."_

" _Perhaps if I-"_

" _You cannot tell her," Jasper insists, "for she will not believe you! She_ _ **must**_ _understand it on her own!"_

 _Edward drops his head and shakes it from side to side, his agony evident in the slump of his shoulders._

 _Jasper rests his hand on Edward's shoulder in a display of sympathy. "This is difficult for us all, Edward, but I can only imagine how painful 'tis for you to await her recognition. It is locked deep within her consciousness, and only she can unlock it by understanding her dreams."_

 _And then…Jasper turns his head and locks her in his gaze._

" _In your dreams, you will hear this. I know you will. You must understand your dreams, my Lady. You_ _ **must**_ _understand…and believe them."_

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

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 **See you guys next Monday!**


	11. Chapter 11 - The Lady's Bible

**A/N: Hey, all! Here's a surprise Friday update for you!**

 **Actually, this was supposed to be part of this coming Monday's update, but that's going to be one mother of a chapter, so I figured I'd split it and give you guys this part today. But don't worry, we're still updating on Monday.**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes. (Though all remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is all mine.**

 **And thank you for your wonderful thoughts. I'm working my way through your reviews, and if I haven't gotten to you yet, I will soon. Promise. :)**

* * *

 **Chapter 11 – The Lady's Bible**

"How are you holding up this morning, Bella?"

Startled out of my reverie, I blinked my gaze away from the wild cherry trees on which I'd been focused for the past few minutes since my arrival to the serene, faux medieval garden. Watching the red fruit rest peacefully against the willowy, emerald leaves was a blissfully calming endeavor in its own leisurely, undemanding way. It also had the benefit of keeping me from close scrutiny of my previous evening's dreams. For _that_ endeavor, I was not yet ready.

Instead, with a long, protracted breath, I shifted my gaze toward Emmett, who sat across from me at the same table we occupied yesterday, minus two individuals. For all the casualness in his tone, he watched me the way one might appraise an unstable person, who might soon need to be talked off of a cliff.

"Where are Jasper and Edward?" I finally worked up the courage to ask.

"They went hiking early this morning."

"Hiking," I echoed. My gaze panned upward to the sky where dark, billowy clouds hung low, and a sharp breeze gusted through the branches, sending those willowy leaves that so entranced me cascading to the ground. There hadn't been any rain yet that morning, but if the black-rimmed clouds were any clue, it was only a matter of time.

"It's not exactly hiking weather."

Emmett followed my gaze upward. "No, maybe not, but it's a trip Edward has been postponing for a few weeks, and…he couldn't really postpone it any longer." His eyes narrowed, focused intently on last night's full moon, which hadn't completely faded from the early morning sky yet and remained half hidden in the mist. "Anyway," he sighed, returning his gaze to me. "I wouldn't worry about them. I see you're still not sleeping well."

I snorted and was about to ask how he knew I didn't sleep well. But then again, there were many ways he could know, from the dark circles rimming my eyes, which had grown so deep they were now a mottled, dull green, to Edward informing them or even to…

With a shudder, I shook that train of that thought out of my head because I wasn't ready for it.

Another possibility I'd pondered that morning was that I'd been drugged. Maybe…maybe from the very beginning, this had all been some drug-induced episode. After all, Edward had ample opportunity: when he carried my water bottle and my half-eaten apple that day when I was late to lecture hall on the first week of classes. He could've easily slipped something into them. Perhaps yesterday, they paid off the bar wench to slip something into the lemonade. That would explain why none of the three had even taken a bite of food or a sip of drink.

Yet, as soon as the thought occurred to me, I dismissed it. Their drugging me still didn't explain the things that happened when they weren't around…nor did it explain why I craved Edward with every fiber of my being, with my body, with my soul, and even with the blood flowing in my veins. And it didn't explain that part of my mind that kept telling me that it was time to wake up.

 _You must understand your dreams, my lady. You must understand…and believe them._

I met Emmett's gaze squarely. "Tell me about Edward and his wife."

He drew in a deep breath and released it through his nostrils, relaxing further into his chair and steepling his fingers across his broad chest. "What exactly would you like to know?"

"She died."

He hesitated before nodding, his eyes intent on mine.

"Did you…know her?"

"I knew her very well, yes."

"Was she as _perfect_ as Edward remembers her?"

" _Perfect_?" At this, he raised his eyebrows and snorted. "She was…young, and she was headstrong, impetuous, stubborn, disobedient, reckless, and sometimes very spoiled. Sometimes, she was way too inquisitive for her own good, and other times, she was an obtuse coward refusing to acknowledge that which was right in front of her."

"Gee, why don't you tell me what you really thought of her?" I smirked.

He held up a finger. "I'm getting there, I'm getting there. Sometimes, she was all the above at once, and completely and utterly maddening. And Christ above, there were times when I just wanted to reach out and…" He spoke through clenched teeth, eyes on me as he wrapped his big hands around the air in front of him and shook them. "Yet always…always, she was kind and generous, not just to those in her class but also to those she'd been taught were below her. She always treated everyone as her equal. She and…her brother," he smiled, "would secretly clothe and feed those who were less fortunate. It was an endeavor in which Edward was also involved, and it's what finally brought them together. She brightened the darkest halls with a light that simply emanated from her. She was beautiful, inside and out. Was she perfect? No. But she was _good_." He folded his hands together again, his voice now a tender, far-away whisper. "And she was beloved by many…not just by her husband."

While the breeze whistled through the garden, and the birds fluttered through the trees, we were silent.

"Thank you for that complete picture."

He looked up at me, his bright brown eyes warm and tender. "You must understand one thing, Bella. Edward adored his wife. In his eyes, she could do no wrong because he worshiped the ground on which she walked. He's never stopped loving her, and it's doubtful he ever will, no matter what."

My chest tightened painfully, but not because of the almost blinding jealousy that burned through me like wildfire last night. Hurt and mortified at being turned down by Edward, at being found wanting in comparison to the perfection that was his wife, I'd cried myself into a fitful slumber, a slumber which was interrupted by the most vivid and bewildering dreams yet.

 _I will always choose you, my husband._

 _You must understand your dreams, my lady, and believe them…_

"Thank you, again." The words emerged as a strangled whisper.

"Bella, if there's anything else you want to know, ask now before we begin." His voice was now laced with both playfulness and urgency. "Edward and Jasper are far away at the moment, and unlike them, I don't hold to the belief that you need to be coddled."

"I never asked to be coddled," I clarified indignantly.

He expelled a loud guffaw, no trace of apology in his mirth. "No, of course not. You simply sit there with most of the pieces to the puzzle, refusing to fit them together while hiding behind the excuse that you need _all of the pieces_ first - and all of them at once, mind you," he added with a grin, "just like a cowardly, headstrong, impetuous, stubborn child."

"I'm none of those things."

"No?" he challenged.

"I'm an academic. I _need_ the complete picture before I…"

"Before you _what_?"

"Look, can we just begin the research now?" I snapped.

"By all means," he chuckled. And then clearing his throat, he leaned forward once more, ready for business. Just like Jasper, Emmett reached around his chair and pulled out a laptop from his bag. "Alright, yesterday, Jasper helped you find some background info on Lady Resmae, correct?"

"Some information, yes." My legs bounced under the table, and I stuck my hands between my thighs to keep my fingers still. Emmett watched my movements out of the corner of his eye.

"Yeah, keep those nervous little fingers still, please," he muttered.

I glared at him. "You're different from the other two."

He chuckled again, eyes on the screen. "I'm told that you're familiar with the _Verse for Bellaria_?"

"Yes. It was written by ESOM in the late thirteenth or early fourteenth century. 'Bellaria, your name is a beautiful song'," I quoted.

Emmett paused in his typing to offer me a soft, melancholic smile. "Yes. Yes, that's it. Did you ever try entering it into a search engine?"

"The verse itself? No. Edward asked me to hold off on my research until I met with you and Jasper."

He nodded slowly. "Alright. Just wondering. Are you ready?"

I swallowed. "Yes."

Eyes on mine, he turned the laptop toward me.

"Bell-aria, thy name is a bewteful sang…" I read out loud.

"That's the original phrasing from the eleventh century."

I turned my eyes to Emmett. "So it _is_ originally a few hundred years older."

"Yes, it is." He jerked his jaw toward the screen, where below the phrase which Emmett had entered into the search engine, there was one, lone hit.

" _Little known, Ancient Medieval Relics_?" I read, frowning.

"Go ahead and open it up."

The hit opened to a page dedicated to obscure relics of the Medieval Era. Carefully and slowly with Emmett's gaze on me, I scanned the page.

"What exactly am I looking…?" The question died on my lips.

"Read it aloud."

"' _If ye shall ever wundor how longe myn worshipe shall steye, I vow it shall remainen yours as allwayes, for allwayes.'"_

I looked up and took him in wide-eyed, my heart drumming in my chest.

"It's how she first said it to him."

" _She_ said it to him first?"

"Yes." He leaned forward once more, a sense of urgency, of the import of what he was about to communicate, in his posture. "You see, Bella, _Bellaria_ worshiped her husband as much as he worshiped her." Then, he eased back. "Keep reading."

I returned my attention to the screen and read aloud:

 _The line is later paraphrased and used in a little known yet highly praised poem from the Middle Ages, dated to the early fourteenth century,_ _ **A Tale of Two Bloodlines.**_ _The original phrasing is dated even a few centuries earlier, taken directly from a piece of paper found tucked between the pages of an ancient Bible, which once belonged to William the Conqueror, first Norman King of England, who reigned from 1066 until his death in 1087 A.D._

 _The Bible, which has only ever been seen by a handful of medieval historians, is sometimes referred to as_ _ **The Lady's Bible**_ _. It was first discovered in the middle of the nineteenth century among relics in York Minster, within the Church of St. Peter, in York, England. Before falling into the hands of King William, the Bible was the only item salvaged from a Yorkshire castle once belonging to a cousin by marriage to the King - a Baron from the noble house of Swein, whose exact name is unknown. He, along with all other members of his house, is believed to have perished when the castle was sieged and razed to the ground by a small, unknown army, sometime in the year 1086 A.D. When King William went to survey the destruction, it is said he found the Bible and kept it. He died one year later. After this, The Lady's Bible was believed cursed._

 _In truth, very little is known about the history of the Bible, or about the castle in which it was found. Very little is also known of the castle's Norman inhabitants, since the fire destroyed all records, save for the Bible. However, the bible is alleged to have belonged to the baron's wife, Lady_ Resmae _of House_ Swein _\- hence, the Bible's name._

 _In keeping with Norman tradition, the Bible contained the records of the lady's bloodline tracing back generations. In ancient times, births were recorded in this manner immediately after delivery since official records of birth did not yet exist. Only live births were recorded in church ledgers, and even that could take months._

 _The last two entries in The Lady's Bible were recorded as follows:_

 _ **Emmot, sonn of Swein – a.d. VI Non. Mai. in the yere of our Lorde, 1062.**_

 _ **Bell-aria, doughter of Swein – in the ides of September, 2 William 1."**_

All the air in my lungs left me in a rush, and the world spun before me so quickly, that I had to close my eyes against the dizzying whirlwind.

"Bellaria," I breathed raggedly. "She was Lady Resmae's daughter, and…and she had a brother."

"Yes," Emmett said, his voice an almost silent whisper. "She was, and she did. Now, keep reading, Bella."

With a deep breath, I reopened my eyes and finished Lady Resmae's bible entry:

 _ **May the Lorde blessen and kepen the children of myn wombe for eternite and spare theim the fate of myn dremen."**_

 _ **Lady Resmae, Hous Swein.**_

My eyes shot up to Emmett. "May the Lord bless and keep the children of my womb for eternity and spare them the fate of my dreams?"

"Close. _Dremen_ in Middle English meant more than mere dreams. It meant visions…prophecies of a sort."

"Prophecies," I echoed shakily, my chest heaving.

"Continue," he instructed.

 _The one-year anniversary of the death of Lady Resmae of House Swein is recorded in the Monastic Records of York Minster (rather than her actual death, as was religious custom of the times) as 2 William 1 (after King William's coronation, the Norman manner of recording years, i.e., the second year of King William the First's rule, or 1068 A.D.). This is the same year of birth of her daughter, Bell-aria, which indicates that the Lady of the castle most likely died soon after delivering and then recording her daughter's birth – unfortunately, a common occurrence in medieval times. As was also custom, upon her death, the Bible would have become the possession of her daughter, so that she might one day record the birth of her own children. Unfortunately, both Bell-aria and her brother, Emmot, are believed to have perished in the fire which consumed the castle less than two decades later. There are no further records of births or deaths within the castle's nobility._

 _After the castle's destruction, rumors quickly spread within Yorkshire of dark and otherworldly events having occurred within castle walls before its fall. In an age of deep superstition, quiet whispers abounded that included demon knights roaming the castle and walking unscathed through the flames while dismembering and beheading the lords within. There were rumors of a curse placed on the castle's inhabitants by a dying knight. While the exact details of the rumors are unknown, each version had at its heart the tale of a forbidden love affair between Bell-aria, the baron's betrothed daughter, and one of his sworn knights. Some believe that the phrase found tucked inside the Bible was part of the actual wedding vows secretly recited between Bell-aria and her knight._

"Oh God," I choked. Stopping again, I cradled my head in my hands. "History repeating itself. She was betrothed to someone she didn't love, and she fell in love with…with her knight and married him in secret."

"You must finish reading, Bella."

Steeling myself, I opened my eyes and plunged ahead.

 _For many years after the castle's destruction, no one dared walk its grounds or speak aloud the names of those who'd resided within – which is likely why the Lord of the Castle's name is now unknown. It's also said that despite how fertile the land around the castle had once been, for a few decades after its burning, nothing grew on the land surrounding the castle's perimeter. This compounded the superstitious belief of a curse._

 _With the passage of time, the curse, along with the castle, its inhabitants, and all its possessions were eventually forgotten. When The Lady's Bible was discovered on the Yorkshire church grounds in the mid-eighteen-hundreds, the Government attempted to claim it for the British Museum in London. This attempt was blocked by a young priest by the name of Father Emory, affectionately known as Father Em, who championed it as an important piece of local lore, and thus it remained in York._

 _I looked up at Emmett. Shrugging, he offered me an innocent smile._

 _In the early nineteen-hundreds, an elusive historian by the name of Jowl made the connection between the passage kept within The Lady's Bible and the poem penned in the early fourteenth century by the equally elusive author,_ Esom _. For a short while, most likely due to its connection to The Lady's Bible and to the cursed castle, the poem was believed cursed as well. This might explain why it never reached the level of credit or distinction which most experts agree it deserved._

 _In 1950, Lady_ Resmae's _Bible became part of Westminster Abbey's Collection of Ancient Relics; although, it was never made available for public view. However, in 1999, the Bible disappeared. Today, its whereabouts remain unknown._

There, the few paragraphs dedicated to the ancient relic ended.

For a long time, I stared at the screen, seeing things which weren't there, things which couldn't have ever happened…

" _My brother has been killed! Father says he was run through by a boar! How shall I go on in this cold, lonely castle without him?"_

" _Shh, Beloved. Emmot was my closest friend, and I do not know either how I will bear to be without him. But I will take care of you, my love. This life is too short, and I can no longer abide by your father's wishes. I will make you my wife and remove you from here. And we will honor your brother's memory by creating a beautiful life together."_

" _Yes. Yes, please make me your wife. I no longer care for consequences, for I am yours eternally…"_

…seeing things which I had no logical way of knowing. And I was exhausted beyond belief…so exhausted.

"What really happened to them – to all of them? To Lady Resmae, to Bellaria, to Emmot, and to…to her husband?"

"Our session is over, Bella," Emmett said quietly. "I gave you the opportunity to ask me anything you wanted before we started, but now Edward is close. Any other questions you have must go to him."

As he spoke, a strange and peculiar numbness, a last ditch effort by my subconscious to shield me from that which was struggling to break through the veil in my mind, rose within me. There was a war – a battle between what logic claimed illogical and between what research, a form of proof I'd been taught since childhood, claimed true – raging within me. My mind rationally battled with what my heart irrationally claimed.

" _I am yours as always, for always…Edward…son of mason."_

"Edward…oh God, his name…his name was…" I shut my eyes tightly and exhaled all the breath in my lungs. "Emmett, where is Edward?"

"He'll be back very soon. He wants you to wait here for him."

Perhaps it was my exhaustion, which refused to allow me to just give up on logic, which kept me struggling and searching for another possible answer, another avenue, for _one more source_ who'd helped me once before, and who could conceivably give me another explanation.

When I hastily rose to my feet, Emmett rose as well. The wind picked up and howled, pushing over our chairs, and sending them tumbling through the garden. As I ran, the path before me was littered with bright crimson cherries.

"Bella, where are you going?" Emmett yelled. "You have to wait for Edward! Damn it, you can't run from this!"

But I'd try. Just once more, I'd try.

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook: Stories by PattyRose**

 **Chapter Song Rec:** _ **Cry, Little Sister**_ **by G Tom Mac (the lyrics are a bit freaky, but the tune is perfectly haunting for this story). ;)**

 **Have a great weekend, and...well, I'll be looking forward to Mo**


	12. Chapter 12 - Bellaria, Be Not Afraid

**A/N: Happy Monday!**

 **Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts.**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes. (But all remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is all mine.**

* * *

 **Chapter 12 – Bellaria, Be Not Afraid**

When I pulled up in front of the Seattle Central Library, the afternoon clouds were hovering even lower, so low and so close that as I sat still in my car and gazed numbly up at the sky, I was sure that if I stretched up enough, I could touch them. I could feel them like soothing cotton balls between my fingers, both tangible and _real_. The threat of rain had quickly magnified into a promise of an imminent downpour, the heavens as obscure as the shadows in my mind, the murky haze camouflaging the corners, the thoughts lurking…the pieces threatening to come together. They were pieces which had been gathering from the very first moment of my first encounter with Mr. Edward Masen.

 _Perhaps their story has roots in a true tale...perhaps a young knight once fell in love with a young, beautiful, intelligent noblewoman..._

 _...two lovers who lived, loved...and lost..._

"No!" I growled, dropping my head and banging it repeatedly on the steering wheel as I tried desperately to keep the haze in place.

… _when she didn't want to face something, she behaved like an obtuse coward refusing to acknowledge that which was right in front of her…_

 _"_ No," I repeated to myself through clenched teeth. "There has to be another explanation."

 _In your dreams, you will hear this…you must understand your dreams, my lady…and believe them…_

 _Bella, I never claimed him as the stuff of legend. I proposed his love is..._

 _Her name is…Bellaria…_

"Hey Lady, you can't park there!" The traffic officer yelled after me as I rushed into the library.

 _Are you sure you want to learn the tale…because if you do, you may learn things which_ _ **cannot**_ _be unlearned..._

 _Her name_ _ **is**_ _…Bellaria…_

I fisted my hair hard to chase away the thoughts, making stars dance before my eyes as I scrambled onto the library elevator. It was packed, just as it had been last Sunday afternoon. Floor by floor, my hands fisted and unfisted at my sides. I squirmed around anxiously in a corner. Then realizing that all eyes were on me, I forced myself to stand still.

… _whispers abounded of demon knights roaming the castle and walking through flames unscathed…_

 _They hid in the castle strongholds, filled the deep moats with all manner of creatures, raised the drawbridges…and for all their noble greatness, their names couldn't even be recalled as little as a century later…_

 _Bellaria…_

When we finally reached the tenth floor, I pushed my way out of the elevator and ran toward the reference desk.

 _It's signed…ESOM…_

"May I help you?" The elderly, gray-haired librarian on duty smiled pleasantly at me from her swivel stool behind the desk. I managed a tight smile in return; although, from her startled expression, it fell quite flat.

"Yes, hi. I'm looking for a librarian who helped me last week. She had some expertise on a topic I was researching, and I really need her to assist me with the rest." The desperation in my voice was audible.

"Why sure, honey. Why don't you give me her name, and I'll see if she's working today?"

"Her name was Esme. She was here last Sunday."

The librarian frowned. "Esme? I don't think we have an Esme working on this floor. Are you sure you were here on the research floor?"

"I'm sure."

"Okay. Then are you sure her name was Esme?"

"Yes, I'm sure," I repeated, blood now pounding between my temples. My hands fluttered nervously.

Swiveling around in her stool, the librarian addressed another librarian behind the desk. "Mary, do you know if there's an Esme working on one of the floors?"

Mary, who looked to be about in her mid-fifties, responded absently while working on her desktop. "No, Judy. I've never heard of an Esme working here. Why?"

"This young lady is looking for someone by the name of Esme, who helped her here last week."

Mary frowned our way before standing and walking to us. "No. There's no Esme. What did she look like? It's probably someone else."

I swallowed back the panic rising to my throat. "She had long, dark hair and dark eyes, fair skin, and she looked about early to mid-thirties. And she was very pretty," I added, "about my height, I'd say."

"Well, except for the age, you've just described yourself, honey," Mary chuckled. "But no, there's no one working here who fits that description."

"Maybe she means Clara," Judy suggested, "over in fiction. She's got long, dark hair and dark eyes."

"No," Mary disagreed, "Clara is really tall, taller than my husband." She grinned, unaware of the terror her words sent up my spine. "Are you sure she was more on the petite side?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm sure."

"Are you sure she had dark hair _and_ dark-"

"YES!" I snapped. "Yes, she had dark hair and dark eyes," I clarified with forced composure. Still, my voice shook. "She was petite, and…I suppose she may have looked a bit like me."

"We have no one here like that," Mary insisted. "What do you need help with? Maybe one of us can-"

"No." I fisted my hair again, trying to stop the ever-increasing tingling in my fingers. "It _has_ to be her."

"Honey, I'm sure we can help," Judy persisted.

"She showed me an old book," I murmured, "with a poem from the Middle Ages."

"Well, do you remember the title of the book or of the poem? Any one of us can search for it in our database."

Reluctantly, I gave her both titles, and with another pleasant though much more wary smile, Judy the librarian entered the information into her desktop. "Don't worry, we'll find it for you," she reassured me. Then, her brow furrowed. "Actually, it says here that this particular book is archived in the National Archives of London." Mary moved closer to the screen and peeked over Judy's shoulder. They both looked up at me. "We don't have it here. We never have."

"That can't be right," I breathed, shaking my head almost violently. "I looked through the book here last week. Esme helped me."

Mary appeared on the verge of losing her patience. "Sweetheart, that's not _possible_. That book is over five hundred years old, and we would never keep it here. Now, if there's something in there that you need for your research, we'd be happy to help you contact the National Archives in London and formally request-"

"Where's Esme?" I hissed, stepping closer to the counter and gripping the edges fiercely. My fingers tingled like lightning bolts poised to strike. "I _know_ she's here."

"We told you, there is _no_ Esme here," Judy replied coldly, all attempts at civility gone. "Now if you continue with this, we're going to have to call security."

I backed up slowly, both Mary and Judy's eyes on me threateningly now. Then I turned around and ran.

Too bewildered to stand and wait for the elevator, I ran down the ten flights of stairs. All the while, as I sprinted downward, bumping into patrons on their way up and ignoring their protests, I fought against the hysteria welling up inside me, sending my heart rate soaring and closing off my lungs, making the tips of my fingers sting and burn. When I reached street level, I kept running. I left behind my car, only wanting to escape the inescapable, cutting through narrow streets and alleys. Except…that flight led me right into _him_.

By this point, I wasn't surprised. Instead, I shoved his chest with all my might while the wind whistled around us and thunder rumbled so loudly that Seattle's citizens, used to storms, began seeking shelter. They left the usually busy streets as deserted as a ghost town.

"What did you do to me?" I howled in a strangled voice. "What the _fuck_ did you do to me?"

I tried to shove him again, but he wrapped his fingers around my arms and pulled me in close. And despite everything, despite the bewildered part of me, even the part of me that _hated_ him…the part of me that craved him, that needed him like air, was a million times stronger.

"I'm sorry," he said, his warm breath fanning over my face, his bright green eyes swimming in agony. "I'm sorry, my love. I wish there was another way."

"Where is she?" I demanded.

"Where's who?"

"Esme! Where's Esme?"

"Bella, I don't know who Esme is."

"The librarian!" I shrieked. "The one who helped me find the poem by ESOM, and The Verse for Bellaria!"

"Esme?" he frowned. Then something flickered in his eyes, and as he looked away from me, he shook his head. "My God, _Esme_."

"I don't know what that means!"

As his gaze swept back to me, his nostrils flared, and he pulled me in closer. "Yes, you do. You refuse to see what's right before you. You're closing yourself off to it. _That's_ why I told you what I did yesterday, so that could stop _torturing_ the both of us! You need to accept this _now_!"

"I have no idea what the fuck you want me to accept!"

"Yes, damn it, you do!" He spoke through clenched teeth, shaking me hard enough to show me that, like Mary the librarian, he'd reached the end of his patience. But not hard enough to hurt me – never hard enough to hurt me. "Yes, you do," he repeated in a quiet voice that belied the fire in his gaze. "You feel me in your heart, in your blood, and in every corner of your mind, and you _know_. You know that my name has been written indelibly upon your soul since the very beginning, just as yours is written upon mine."

With those words, all the air in my lungs escaped me, and I shut my eyes, dropping my head. "It's impossible," I said much more weakly. "It's imp-"

"So damn stubborn," he hissed. Then without warning, Edward slid his hands through my hair, wrapped his fingers around the nape of my neck, and pulled my mouth up to his.

And despite all the confusion and the anger and the resentment rumbling throughout my every limb, when he put his mouth on mine, when he breathed his scent and his life and his heat into me, I was home. All my resistance evaporated, and I responded hungrily because yes, somehow, my soul was his soul. My blood was his blood. How that was possible, I had no idea, but I knew that much to be true.

My arms slid around his neck, and as I melted against him, a sound of pure, undeniable relief erupted from deep within his chest. When he exhaled my name in a strangled whisper, I deepened our kiss because I was lost and found - lost in him, in the heat of our kiss, and found in my own sense of relief. So lost that I didn't immediately get that when he breathed my name over and over, he wasn't saying 'Bella.'

"Bellaria…"

With a horrified gasp, I pulled away.

Edward looked startled, his eyes wide and unblinking. When he finally blinked out of his daze, his eyes darkened exponentially, now almost wild in their indignation.

"Christ's love, open your eyes! See what is right before you!"

"I can't possibly be her!"

"Oh, but you are!" he roared, stepping toward me. "You are Bellaria! YOU ARE MY WIFE!"

I staggered backward yet another step, bewildered by the vehement fury in his tone. The wind suddenly stopped, and as Edward and I faced each other in the middle of the alley, only my heavy breaths were audible. It was like one of those perfect silences that came right before a raging storm. And abruptly, the skies opened, and a blinding, wrathful flood of fury pounded over us.

This time, when he closed the distance between us, he pulled me flush against his hard chest and forced me to hold his frenzied gaze. "Stop this!"

"I can't!"

"Yes, you can! You have the ability, and you have pieces. Now put them together for your sanity as well as for mine, and for your _safety_!"

"I don't know who or what you are, but _I_ am Bella," I cried. But there was no true conviction behind my words. And abruptly, all Edward's fury left him in a rush as well.

"If you can't accept who you are, there is no way you will ever understand what I am."

Rain pelted against my cheeks and mixed with my tears, and I dropped my head in defeat. Again, he cradled the nape of my neck, and I closed my eyes.

"I don't know what to believe."

"Believe you are Lady Bellaria of Castle Swein," he said softly. "Believe that your mother was Lady Resmae of House Swein."

"My mother was Renee Cullen. She died when I was a child."

"Lady Resmae was descendant of Rena of Pompeii, who herself was descendent of a great line of sorcerers-"

"You mean witches," I snorted.

"-as far back as biblical times. She did not know this until the birth of her daughter, just as Lady Resmae did not know until your birth, as you would have known upon the birth of our-"

"Stop!" I cried. "Don't go there. Please, don't go there."

Gently, with his finger under my chin, he lifted my eyes back to him.

"Bellaria, hear me," he begged. "Throughout the ages, it has been the birth of a girl child which has opened your descendant's eyes so that the power might manifest itself. There was something in the birth...we're not sure what. But they were ancient times, and there was simply no other way to know. No records kept. However, now…" he cradled my face between his hands, "Jasper, Emmett, and I, we have studied and recorded the history for you. You were born Lady Bellaria of House Swein, yet you never had the chance to fulfill your destiny; therefore, you were reborn as Bella Cullen. And unless you fulfill it now-"

"How the hell am I supposed to believe all this?"

"My Bellaria, hear me and believe me, I beg of you." His thumbs caressed my cheeks. "Almost one thousand years I've awaited your return."

It boggled the mind - everything he claimed, those things which he implied. They were impossible to believe, yet impossible not to. I was being told that the Earth was flat, that all the planets revolved around the Earth…that reincarnation existed…in _me_.

"If all this is true, then how-"

"Hello, Bella."

The two words were spoken behind me, but just as quickly as I heard them, the person who spoke them was in front of me. It took me the next couple of seconds to realize that it wasn't he who'd moved, but rather me. I'd been picked up and set behind Edward so quickly, so fluidly, that I hadn't even felt it. And now, Edward was crouched in front of me, his arm bent behind him and wrapped around me like an iron beam, immovable when I tried to pull away and look past him to the vaguely familiar man before us both.

"Jake?"

He grinned as if pleased by my recognition, completely unfazed by the downpour.

"You remembered me. I feared our time together had been too short for-"

"Mongrel, you will stay away from my _wife._ " A growl so deep and rumbling emanated from Edward's chest that it raised every fine hair on my neck.

Jake grinned. "Has she chosen then?"

"She made her choice centuries ago; your _master_ knows this," Edward seethed.

Jake laughed. "She must make the choice again; _you_ know _this._ "

"And your master knows how she will choose. That's why he sends you, a half-witted new creation of his instead of appearing himself."

"How do you know for sure that I am not him?" Jake snarled.

"Because he is a coward. He always has been, and he always will be. And now, he sends you to your death."

"Wait, what's going on? Jake…what are you doing here?" I asked.

He turned his gaze to me, reaching out a hand. "Why, I'm here for you, Bella. All you have to do is say you choose me."

Edward's arm tightened around me. "Bellaria, that is _not_ Jake," he snarled.

"Then who-"

The next few minutes will always be a blur.

Something – something that moved too quickly for my eyes – grabbed Jake. All I saw were flashes before two indistinguishable shapes moved like lightning before me, but not in one direction and downward the way lightning moves, rather side to side, up and down, diagonally and in circles. They crashed together and thunder emanated from them. Then they came apart and continued their dance. And all the while, Edward remained crouched before me as I watched in horrified fascination.

When the two lightning bolts stopped for a split second, I recognized one.

"That's Emmett," I breathed. "Edward, what…what in the actual… _fuck_?"

Suddenly, Edward wasn't in front of me - nor holding me - anymore.

More flashes of lightning appeared, exploding together like thunder while actual thunder rolled above us and disguised the ear-splitting battle – because I couldn't deny that it was a battle. When a deafening thud hit the concrete side of a building, it reverberated through my limbs. It shook through the streets like a seismic quake. Fragments of brick flew in all directions. At first, I thought lightning had actually struck the side of the building, but when the dust cleared, all my blood ran cold.

The Edward of my dreams, of my visions, the beautiful, wrathful god of my nightmares held Jacob prone against the broken wall. Except…it wasn't Jacob. Then abruptly, it was. His face shifted over and over, from Jacob to someone I didn't recognize to…to the most horrendous and disfigured beast I could've ever dreamed up in the worst of my already impossible dreams.

"Garwalf," I breathed, recalling Rena's description of her husband, Iacobus. "Shapeshifter...warewolf."

And as my mind tried to make sense of the senseless, the beast's head went rolling. In the next moment, his body fell to the ground.

Again, Edward moved like a flash in front of me, fighting with other formless, shapeless beasts. When a gush erupted into the air like a geyser, I thought one of the city's old water mains had broken. It took me a couple of seconds to realize that the water gushing wasn't white…and that it wasn't water. It splattered back to the ground with a legless torso and a torso-less pair of legs falling with it.

Strangely enough, it was that sight which accomplished what I hadn't been able to accomplish in weeks. My mind stopped racing. For the next few minutes, while I stood there doing nothing but watching, I don't think any real, tangible thoughts went through my head. I was, in the truest sense of the word, totally and completely dumbfounded.

But it didn't last long.

A strange sounded erupted above me, like the whistling sound an object makes as it cuts through the air.

Moving my eyes upward, I saw a handful of lightning bolts heading straight for me. In my thoughtless, mindless condition, the only thing I could come up with was the mathematical impossibility of half a dozen lightning bolts striking the same spot at the same time.

"No! Bellaria! BELLA!" Edward roared. In the fraction of a second that I moved my eyes away from the bolts and to him, I saw him reach for me only to be pulled back by a half dozen sets of arms.

It was instinctual, the same as when you reach for someone you see is about to fall even knowing you'll be too late, and that there's nothing you can do anyway. That's how I reached for Edward, with both hands and with my fingers outstretched. The pulse that raced through my spine rushed through my veins and converged into the tips of my fingers. The arms wrapped around Edward's torso and the bodies connected to those arms disintegrated. The force of the pulse sent me reeling on my ass and out of the trajectory of the falling lightning bolts. When those bolts hit concrete, Edward, Jasper, and Emmett were on them in an instant.

Stunned beyond movement or comprehension, I exhaled through narrowed lips and brought my hands up in front of me, turning them over from side to side.

"What the actual-"

"Bella, watch out!"

Edward shoved me hard, so hard it knocked all the wind out of me as I went skidding across the pavement and stupidly tried to stop my momentum with my hands. I screamed as I felt the skin of my palms scrape off. With a thud, my head hit the concrete.

A few seconds or an entire lifetime may have transpired. Spread out on the ground, I moaned and whimpered. My eyes crossed from the searing pain radiating to every corner of my skull. The world spun before me in an excruciating, blinding blur. My palms were on fire. Yet despite the agony, I managed to sit up. Unable to use my palms, I pressed my wrists to my head to quell the pain. Then, I opened my eyes.

The rain still fell in mystifying sheets, but now…now my vision was clear, and I saw it all as if a veil had been lifted.

In the destruction of the alley before me, Edward, Emmett, and Jasper were waging war with at least a dozen men. But _men_ was the wrong word for what the things were. There was nothing human about them, not in the way they moved, not in the way they rammed into one another and shred concrete walls into dust yet emerged unscathed, not in the snarls and howls that filled the air, not in the spider-like way they climbed walls, not in the heights they jumped…and not in the way Edward tore off their limbs and split their torsos.

Yet as quickly as he, Jasper, and Emmett finished them, more would appear. They were humans at first, perfectly normal humans who crossed the alley or peered down from the windows of one of the buildings surrounding us. Then one of the _things_ would grab them, lunge forward or scale the side of the building and...scratch, or bite. In the next seconds, the unfortunate human was no longer human.

When there were only a handful left, four of them jumped to the top of a roof as if jumping an Olympic hurdle.

"Go!" Edward ordered Jasper and Emmett. "I have this one!"

Emmett and Jasper jumped up to the roof while Edward bent the last one against a large garbage bin. The _thing_ shifted from man to beast, from Jacob's face to another. And I sat there and watched it all. I watched Edward snarl and twist his lips. I saw his eyes darken. I watched him open his mouth and bare his teeth while the _thing_ emitted an inhuman, high-pitched howl. I watched the _thing's_ head fall limply to the side, eyes open and unseeing

The entire fight lasted about five minutes, yet it felt as if I sat there for decades, for centuries watching the thing's limp, pitched head, its terror-filled and glazed eyes, and its blood trail down its arm then cascade to the ground like the leaves from the cherry blossom trees earlier in that beautiful, peaceful medieval garden. It ran like a stream and seeped into the covered sewers. The rain washed away the rest. I vaguely wondered how the remainder of the scene would be explained to the Seattle Police Department.

And all the while, in the background, the sound of _his_ drinking and swallowing filled my ears.

Swallowing thickly myself, and unable to put it off any longer, I forced myself to look.

As if feeling my eyes on him, Edward stopped and slowly swiveled his head, meeting my gaze as he released the _thing_ and allowed it to fall to the ground. He straightened out over his long legs, his eyes neither black nor green but bright red and glowing like a crimson vision from an unimaginable _dremen_. Blood streaked his clothes, his face, his arms…his blindingly white teeth. With his red eyes on me, and with careful, deliberate movements, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and shook it off over the concrete. The sound of the blood splattering reverberated through my bones.

 _Are you sure you want to learn the tale…because if you do, you may learn things which_ _ **cannot**_ _be unlearned..._

As if stuck in some slow-motion horror film, my head moved deliberately from side to side. My lips parted on an equal parts protracted and fathomless breath. I filled my lungs. I prepared them. It must've all clued in Edward to what was coming next.

His eyes filled with their own kind of horror, and when he spoke, his voice was ridiculously soft and soothing.

"No, Bellaria. No, my beloved. I beg of you, do not be frightened of me. Don't scream. Please, don't scream." He rushed forward as the first sound crossed the threshold of my lips. "No, Bella, no!"

Then, everything went black.

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **I've wanted to clear something up since the beginning, but I couldn't until now:**

 **These are not Stephanie Meyers' vampires. The wolves/shapeshifters aren't hers either. In other words, none of these supernatural dudes are canon** _ **Twilight**_ **. They're my own little beings. :)**

 **Chapter Song Recs:**

 _ **Tremble for my Beloved**_ **by Collective Soul**

 _ **Cry, Little Sister**_ **by G Tom Mac (I mentioned this one last chapter, and the lyrics are a bit freaky, but the tune for these past two chapters is perfectly haunting). ;)**

 **See you all next Monday. :)**


	13. Chapter 13 - What May Come in Dreams

**Hey, everyone! Happy Friday! Here's another surprise update for you. Just like last Friday's update, this will be a shorter update since it was originally part of this coming Monday's chapter before it grew too long. Plus, this part here will be very important in upcoming chapters, so rather than squeezing it in with Monday's update, where it might get lost while everyone skims to get to Edward and Bella (Lol. see, I know), I figured I'd post it separately so that you guys could ponder and dissect it over the weekend, if you're so inclined.**

 **Shout out to Patricia Alejandra Cordovez Parisi! Happy Birthday, love! Told you I'd have something for you. ;)**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes. All remaining mistakes are mine.**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is all mine.**

 **And, of course, thank you all so much for your wonderful thoughts. :)**

* * *

 **Chapter** **13 – What May Come in Dreams**

I awoke with a gasp.

For a long while, I kept my eyes on the ceiling above me, unfamiliar yet soothing in all its white, unmarred expanse. Then slowly, I turned my head sideways. The cream-toned walls were equally unfamiliar, as was the fireplace in the corner, roaring gently with flames that warmed my forehead. Sighing, I turned my head to the other side and found two doors framing a large, black dresser that held an oval mirror. In the front and exact center of the room, there was another door. And other than for a nightstand and the soft bed on which I found myself tucked in between what were obviously high thread count sheets and a downy comforter with the consistency of a cloud, that was all that surrounded me.

Burrowing deeper into the heavenly mattress, I closed my eyes once more and left the world around me behind.

 _ **Pompeii, A.D. 76…**_

 _The newborn babe finishes her first feeding. Her head lolls back against the cradle created by her mother's arm, and her dark eyes flutter closed, minuscule lips parting slightly in her sated slumber. Despite the woman's concerns and despairs, she smiles at the realization that very unlike her own fair hair and light eyes, the child has the darker hair and eyes of her true father. The woman strokes the downy on the child's soft crown. It's as sublime as a sable's fur._

" _Sabella," she murmurs. "You are my Sabella."_

 _Sighing with the knowledge she can put off no longer, the woman hands the child to the midwife, who nods impassively. All the servants, save one – a young girl called in to assist with the birth – obediently follow the midwife to the solarium, where the child will be presented to the beast who now believes himself a father. In his eager arrogance, he believes his dark gift has finally mixed with the woman's own blood to create a being with powers beyond comprehension, powers which the woman is only now beginning to grasp and realize truly exist within her blood – powers which have_ _ **not**_ _passed to the child. The gift is meant for another, who will come into their bloodline many generations later. Since the beginning of time it has been this way._

 _The woman's tears fall silently as the child disappears around the corner. She will be unable to keep her daughter's true parentage a secret forever. When the child's presumed powers fail to manifest, when he, Iakobus, discovers the truth, his wrath will fall on the innocent child. Had there been a way for the woman to have kept the child's existence from her husband, she would have done so. But he has taken precautions. The midwife and most of the servants are beasts like him, and they are loyal to their master. No, she could not have kept her pregnancy or the child's birth a secret; so now, she must expose her daughter to monsters._

 _Once more, the woman's gaze sweeps to the window, where a dark cloud now hovers over the lush peak of great Vesuvio in the distance. Flashes of light from the heavens now strike the mountain with vengeance._

" _Sabella," she whispers shakily as she sits alone with only the young servant girl gathering up the soiled linens. She fists her nervous hands around the sheets and allows herself to speak aloud. "In any manner possible, I will spare the fruit of my womb from the beast's wrath. That is a vow."_

 _When the unexpected and sharp pain clenches her midsection, the woman gasps in bewilderment. The young servant girl, unprepared for more than clean-up, gapes and drops the bloodied linens…_

… _._

 _ **Yorkshire, A.D. 1086**_

 _She wears her long, black cloak to conceal her identity, its hood gathered so close to her face that the fur trim brushes her cheeks and nose. The fastened cape and long, bell sleeves cover up the silk of the tunic underneath, for her gown would give her away immediately. Her husband tells her that no matter her attempts, she cannot pass for a commoner. In times now sadly past, both he and her brother would accompany her on this endeavor. Both of them tall and broad-shouldered even in their own commoner clothing, they would shield her from probing eyes, keep the whispers at bay with even, steady glares, for even as they performed their acts of heavenly-decreed chivalry and kindness, she was their priority._

 _But her brother is now gone, sent to heaven nigh on eleven months by a hell-damned boar, and her husband is off quelling an uprising while her father sits council with the King in London. And if she does not keep her mind and hands busy, she will go mad awaiting her husband's return._

 _So now she stands behind the village abbey without her brother or her knight. Without them, she has no freshly hunted game to offer, but she and Cateline, her former lady-in-waiting, stand side by side with a basket of food under each arm. They parcel out white bread to the beggars and to the hungry peons as well as cheese sweetened with spices from the east, exotic fruits, and grains meant only for the nobility._

" _If your father discovers that we have pilfered from the castle kitchen-"_

" _Cateline, you concern yourself overly much with earning my father's approval," she says as she smiles and crouches in front of a young boy, handing him as many apples as he can carry._

"' _Tis enough disobedience to be here, yet when Lord Karles learns of your marriage to his sworn knight - to the son of a mason," Cateline says the last word in seeming distaste, but she fools no one. Whenever she looks upon the knight, there is no distaste in her gaze._

 _She stands and faces her former lady-in-waiting. "My husband and I will deal with my father upon his return."_

" _Do you not think that if you were to send your father word, confessing your transgression and begging for his forgiveness, he might allow you to undo the marriage?"_

" _Why in heaven's name would I ever desire to undo my marriage?" she hisses. "I love my husband, and he loves me!"_

" _Your father will disapprove," Cateline insists._

" _Yes, he will disapprove. He will always disapprove of me, of you, and of anyone who does not bow to his will in_ _ **all**_ _. Take care that you should ever forget that and believe yourself a great favorite, for it will be a grave error."_

 _Cateline remains silent. While it is plain she wishes to say more, both prudence and acknowledgment of her lower birth finally hold her tongue._

 _However, she can no longer concern herself with Cateline, for behind the boy with the apples stands a young, familiar woman perhaps a year or two older than she. The young woman is very beautiful: tall, with eyes as blue as a field of cornflowers and hair as flaxen as the fields of wheat. She has seen the beautiful, young woman before, making the line behind the village abbey. In times past, the young woman's serene beauty has been marked with an expression of contentment, occasionally even absolute happiness despite her poor lot in life. Yet during these last few visits, a deep melancholy dulls her blue eyes. The smile she bestows when she curtsies and gives thanks for the basket prepared specifically for her – filled with breads, cheeses, dried meats, fruits, grains and a pair of minuscule rose-colored stockings – does not reach those blue eyes. The beautiful, young woman holds her gaze for a handful of seconds, the basket under one arm and her infant daughter in the other. Then, she turns away._

… _._

 _It is a fortnight later when she peers out of the cottage window for perhaps the twentieth time. The sun is now making its descent behind her husband's fields – her fields, for he tells her that all that is his is hers. Sometimes, she and her husband run through those fields, through stalks so tall that no one can spy on them as he moves over her and fills her womb out in the open, fields so vast that no one can hear their mutual cries of pleasure as he spills his seed within her. Only the fields and the wild cherry trees bear witness._

 _But he is gone to the castle at the moment. His men have remained at his command to guard and surround the cottage – to guard her. Through the window, she sees them in the fading light, swords sheathed as they stroll the perimeter, talking and laughing amongst themselves. Only Jasper of the white locks stands stiff and wary, his gaze turned toward the castle just as hers is. It has been hours since her husband rode to face her father's wrath for their mutual disobedience._

 _With a deep breath, she turns away from the window and walks toward the fireplace to rekindle it so that her husband might return to a warm home. At her sides, her hands open and close with the nervous affliction which she has never been able to control or disguise. Her husband is the only one who has ever known how to calm them when they begin to twitch, how to set her at ease when lately she wakes in the middle of the night from dreams she cannot recall but which leave her breathless._

 _The fighting breaks out as she kneels in front of the hearth situating the logs so that the fire may roar. Roar it does; it mixes and melds with the yelling and screaming, with the sounds of swords unsheathing, clashing, and then slicing through flesh._

 _When the sounds of mayhem end, she rises to her feet and remains stock still._

" _My lady, run! Run!" she hears Jasper of the white locks yelling from the darkness which has now claimed the outdoors. Then she hears a sharp grunt._

 _The door swings wide open, smacking against the wall behind it. She disguises her terror by lifting her chin and hiding her twitching hands behind her back. She is Lady Bellaria of House Swein, and more than that, she is wife to Edward, the son of the mason, the bravest and strongest knight in the fiefdom. She will be as brave as he, and his fate will be her fate. She keeps her head high even as the man she was once forcefully betrothed to, Lord Jakob, slowly walks into her husband's cottage. There is blood dripping from his sword, and it spills onto the cottage floors. Behind him enter two unfamiliar men dragging Jasper, her husband's squire. A dozen more men trail in behind them, and she can hear even more of them waiting outside. At that moment, for a handful of seconds, she does consider running, as futile as that would be._

" _Lord Jakob, what have you done with the rest of my husband's men?" she asks bluntly._

" _They are dead."_

" _You cowardly swine." She speaks calmly, though her teeth are clenched tightly. "You wait until my husband is away from his home to storm it without warning, attack his men, and confront his_ _wife **,"**_ _she hisses_ _ **.**_ _"For such treachery, my husband will surely-" He closes the distance as she speaks, and she gasps in shock when the back of his hand connects ruthlessly with her face._

" _My Lady!" Jasper roars. "DO NOT TOUCH HER!" When the hilt of a sword rams into his stomach, he groans and has to struggle to keep his knees from buckling._

 _The entire time, Jakob keeps his dark gaze on her, grinning as she palms her throbbing cheek. "My lady, your father is well aware of where I am and of what be my endeavor."_

" _If that is true, then my husband will settle the matter with you both. Of that, I can assure you."_

" _We shall see what Sir Edward has to say to your father, but I believe Lord Karles is prepared to make your gallant knight a handsome offer he will not likely refuse, all in exchange for the return of what he has stolen."_

" _Hear me, Lord Jakob. My husband will not barter with me." She utters the words with complete and doubtless faith in the eternal devotion between herself and her husband._

" _Hear_ _ **me**_ _, Lady Bellaria," Lord Jakob sneers, "when I assure you that this night, you_ _ **will**_ _become my wife, and by the morrow morn, my seed will be deeply implanted within you. At that point, there will be nothing more for Sir Edward to say or do, one way or another."_

 _She shudders visibly, and the tips of her fingers burn, for Lord Jakob has always made her affliction worse. "You seem to forget that I am already married, my lord," she replies serenely, "and by the morrow morn, you will have no cock with which to implant your seed in_ _ **anyone**_ _, one way or another."_

 _He draws in a deep breath, shaking his head and laughing lightly before once more delivering a hard blow to the other side of her face. She staggers back, reeling. Her vision blurs from the force of the impact. Jasper howls and strains against his captors to no avail._

" _Your bloodline overflows with useless, disrespectful women. However, that will soon end. You will_ _ **not**_ _cheat me again of the strength which flows in your blood." His humor returns when he sees the confusion she cannot mask. "'Tis a shame she did not give you foresight along with all the other dark gifts she bestowed upon you, is it not?"_

 _Her curiosity bests her. "What madness do you speak? I have no dark gifts."_

 _He snorts derisively, refusing to give her an answer. "Shall we?"_

 _Her face is aflame, but she will not give him the satisfaction of witnessing either her pain or her fear. He pulls her forcefully from the cottage she has shared with her husband these past four months. Jasper is shoved out behind her. Outside, a dark mist has rolled in over the fields, hiding everything beyond from view. In the distance, bolts of lightning flash as Jacob mounts her on his black horse. When he climbs on behind her, he pulls her hard against his groin._

 _Fury rises as bile to her throat, but she does not attempt to further incite his ire. The nausea she has experienced daily these two weeks past strikes her full force, yet she will not give Jakob the satisfaction of knowing her panic, for if her father truly knows of this heinous act…_

 _She swallows back the horror of that thought. One way or another, she will soon be reunited with her husband, her brave and strong warrior. She_ _ **must**_ _be strong and brave for him._

 _Lord Jakob kicks the horse into a gallop._

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **Regular posting on Monday.**

 **For those of you who saw the latest teaser on Facebook, that teaser WILL be part of Monday's update. ;)**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook: *Stories by PattyRose***

 **Have a good weekend!**


	14. Chapter 14 - Scourge or Demigods

**A** **/N: Thank you so much for all your wonderful thoughts. I truly enjoy reading them.**

 **Betad by the wonderful Michelle Renker Rhodes (Though all remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest are mine.**

* * *

 **Chapter 14 – Of Scourge or Demigods.**

My eyes fluttered open.

Once again, I woke in the unfamiliar room and on the foreign yet comfortable bed. And once again, I turned and gazed up at the ceiling for a few minutes. Yet unlike all the other times after waking from my dreams, this time, I remembered them clearly, and…I knew now they were more than mere dreams, much more.

I squeezed my eyes shut. "God, what a fucking…" Not knowing how to complete the statement, I left the last word unspoken. Had it been a day, a whole night, an entire weekend or even a year since that scene in the alley had occurred? But it was more than that uncertainty which struck me as strange in that moment. The words I'd spoken aloud made a peculiar sound in the room - almost as if I'd spoken them into a vacuum.

Regardless of comfortable beds, strange dreams or sharp acoustics, it was time to figure out exactly where I was – even though I had my suspicions, of course. The stiffness in my limbs and joints hinted that I'd been out for a while, but there was no clock, and strangely enough – as if my whole life hadn't turned into one big shitload of strange – there were no windows in the room, nothing to give away the day or time. I pressed my hands against the mattress to lift myself into a sitting position, and that was when the scraping burn in my palms made me remember something else about that alley.

Warily bringing up my hands in front of my face, I frowned curiously at the pristine, white gauze carefully wrapped around them. Only my fingers remained free, and I wiggled them around a bit while my mind replayed what they'd done in that alley.

Panic bubbled to my throat, but I clamped down on both it and on the scream which threatened to emerge on its heels. Neither panicking nor screaming were appropriate reactions anymore. I was beyond them because if what I remembered had really occurred, and if I wasn't simply insane, then neither reaction would get my anywhere.

"Stay in control, Bella," I encouraged aloud.

Yet again, I noted the strangely vacuous sound my words made, sharper in intonation, and louder somehow. When it all threatened to bring about an encore of the panic, I threw back the covers, determined to figure out where I was and what was going on. What I found was that under the covers, I was wearing a robe instead of my own clothing. And when I peeked under the robe, I saw my underwear.

" _Fuuuuck_ ," I breathed. "Alright, Bella, don't freak out. Do not freak out."

Placing my feet on the white-carpeted floors, I confirmed that my limbs were sore but all in working order, which helped my anxiety to recede a bit. After all, I might need them in good condition to make a run for it. Then, I snorted to myself. After what I saw in that alley, I knew I wasn't making a successful run for anything.

On bare feet, I padded over to the only mirror in the room, my heart pounding despite my attempts to remain in control. Whatever my reflection now showed me would either allay most of my fears, or it would send me into all-out hysteria. So with careful and deliberate languidness, I inspected my eyes first. They were, reassuringly, still a normal brown. Swallowing, I moved the inspection to my neck, which I rotated from side to side, closely observing its reflection for any signs of bites or punctures. Lips pressed together, I stroked my fingers back and forth over every part of my neck, feeling for any abnormalities and sighing in relief when there were none.

With the confirmation that I was still human, or as human as I'd been a few weeks ago, I took in the rest of my reflection. That was when it hit me that the image of the woman staring back at me wasn't only human, but she looked better than she had in a while. Yes, my hair was disheveled, but it was nothing beyond what a long night of sleep usually caused, certainly not the hair of someone who'd been caught in an epic downpour followed by a supernatural battle where she skidded down half an alley and knocked her head on concrete. In fact, my hair looked shiny, and…as I ran my fingers through it, I noticed it felt washed and brushed. What's more, the robe I wore wasn't just a robe which had been hastily thrown on me at some point, something that had been found lying around. It was luxuriously soft, plush, and neither too large nor too snug. It fit as if it had been waiting for me – made for _me_. Most impressive of all, my eyes were no longer rimmed by dark, tired circles, and my pupils no longer had that frenzied look in them. Rather, for all the bewilderment still running rampant in my mind, I physically looked and felt well rested, well taken care of - cherished.

"Where is he?" I murmured to myself.

I swept my gaze around the room, now noting the inherent masculinity of the bedroom and of its furnishings, the neatness in its sparsity, and the cleanliness of all its surfaces. It was the room of a man who took care of things. My eyes landed on the remote resting on the nightstand, and I shuffled over, picking it up and turning on the TV.

" _Repeating our top story, the unexpected and brutal storm that took Seattle by surprise on Sunday afternoon with multiple lightning bolts hitting the same block in succession is now being blamed for over a dozen deaths and for the destruction of two apartment complexes…"_

It was strange how I was almost as fascinated by the sharpness of sound in the room – by the lack of echo that the voices on the TV made, just as mine failed to make – as I was by the news story.

Perhaps it was the news story, or maybe even this final evidence that the bedroom was soundproof which propelled me toward the door in the center of the room. I curled my non-bandaged fingers around the knob and exhaled in audible relief when the door not only opened easily, but it also opened up onto a basic yet elegantly beautiful hallway. As I stepped out of the hallway, I saw that I was on the second level of a well-appointed house with landscape portraits on the walls, comfortable and functional furniture, and most reassuringly of all, windows – plenty of light-giving, air-providing windows.

"Hello?" The word echoed in the large, open space as words normally do. Yet, an echo was all the response I received. I took a couple of steps toward the spiral staircase a few feet away, and just as my feet alighted on the second step to head down, Edward came into view.

He stood at the foot of the staircase, eyes bright and green and as intensely focused on me as ever – even more so, if possible. For all the lack of normalcy in the past few weeks, he looked completely and utterly normal, dressed in a normal tee shirt and regular sweats, his face ruggedly handsome and…clean.

And for a split second, I could almost make myself believe that everything, _everything_ had just been a dream; that I'd met Edward in one of the many normal ways men and women meet. For one moment, I pretended that he'd taken me on a date to some pricey restaurant, and then he'd brought me back to his place with the excuse of showing me his baseball card collection or some such nonsense which I'd pretended to buy. Then, he'd plied me with glasses and glasses of wine on which I'd willingly overindulged, and afterward, he'd carried me upstairs and into his pristine bedroom, laid me on top of his plush bed, and made love to me all night long - the way normal men and women did things.

But I hadn't dreamed it all, and even what I had dreamed I now knew to be more than mere dreams. And in a million years, there would still be nothing normal about us.

Yet normal or not, my heart contracted painfully at the sight of his obvious anxiety, his jaw tightly clenched, and his shoulders stiff and rigid. I'd been frightened in the room by myself, but seeing him now reminded me that I _knew_ , inherently, that I had nothing to fear from him. Yet at that moment, as selfish as I knew it was, I simply couldn't relieve his fears.

And while all those thoughts ran through my head, my feet remained still and unmoving on that second step - both of us glued to our respective spots and silently holding one another's gaze.

"How are you?" he finally asked, his voice hoarse as if he hadn't spoken aloud in a while.

"I'm okay." My own voice came out as barely more than a whisper. "I feel well-rested, at least. How long was I asleep?"

"You've been asleep for about twenty hours."

My eyes grew wide. "Twenty hours? I missed this morning's lecture hall!"

He nodded. "I texted the dean of your department from your phone and explained to him that you had a stomach virus. He said he hopes you feel better soon and not to worry; they had someone cover for you."

"I suppose pointing out the intrusiveness of that would be nonsensical now, considering everything else."

"Considering everything else, I didn't think you'd appreciate losing your job."

"Along with my sanity?" I grinned mirthlessly.

He didn't return the grin. Instead, he swallowed hard, his Adam's Apple bobbing. "I'm at a loss as to what else to say right now."

"I think there are volumes and volumes for you to say."

Snorting, he dug his hands deep into his pockets. "Perhaps I should say I don't know where to begin."

Once again, we simply stood locked in one another's gaze. When he lifted a foot onto the staircase's first step, my breath hitched.

"Edward, wait."

He halted immediately, returning his foot to the landing before looking back up at me through wounded eyes.

"Bellar-" He cut off what he almost said, pressing his lips together tightly, but it was obvious what he'd stopped himself from calling me. "Bella, I will _never_ hurt you."

"I know that," I murmured shakily. "I may not know much right now, Edward, but somehow, I do know that."

"You know quite a bit by now, Bella," he contradicted. "You simply have to allow yourself to believe it."

"I can't very well deny much anymore now, can I? Unless I'm ready to accept that I'm insane, and insane people don't usually know they're insane, then I don't have much of a choice but to accept the alternative. So, either way, I have to accept this."

He chuckled humorlessly but otherwise made no response.

"Well, we can't very well get anywhere like this, can we?" I smiled. "I'll come down to you."

He nodded and waited as I carefully made my way down, giving me a wide berth when I reached the last step. Once more, we stood locked uneasily in one another's gaze. Looking around, I took in my surroundings.

"This is your house?"

"It is."

"It's so nor- nice," I stumbled. "So nice and…traditional."

"Yes," he sighed, digging his hands deeper into his pockets. "We hid the coffins and the iron maiden in the underground dungeon, but I'm afraid there wasn't much we could do about the moat outside."

I stared at him.

"That was a _joke_ ," he emphasized with a rueful grin. "You were obviously expecting something else. But I apologize for my attempt at humor. It was in poor taste."

I quirked an eyebrow. "Yes, it was."

When he looked down at his feet, obviously chagrined, I regretted my rebuke. I _had_ expected something else, so I tried again.

"Do you live here alone?"

He met my eyes again and shook his head. "Emmett and Jasper live here as well. They're not here now, but they can be back in an instant if you'd feel more comfortable."

"No," I said quickly. "No, that's fine. You and I need to talk." With a deep breath, I moved my gaze to the living room, which appeared to have another lit fireplace in front of a set of sofas just a few feet away.

"We can sit there," he said casually, having seen where my eyes wandered, "but there's an area further down where you might be more at ease – that is, if you're not afraid of where I may lead you."

This time, when I moved my eyes back to him, he looked almost…challenging.

"Edward, I'm _not_ afraid of you."

"We'll see." The half-smile he gave me was devoid of any warmth. And as he moved aside so that I might walk ahead, he swept his hand in exaggerated invitation.

"Shall we then?"

As I moved ahead, I remembered how he'd guided me through the streets of Georgetown, his hand gently yet possessively on the small of my back. I remembered how safe and cherished it had made me feel. This time, he neither touched me nor walked too closely. Instead, from a few feet behind me, he gave me monotone verbal instructions on when to turn before we reached a sunroom closed in on three sides by floor to ceiling windows. It gave us a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree view of everything in front of the building.

"The garden," I smiled, sighing wistfully. It felt like ages since I'd been there with him. "It's the garden behind the tavern." I pivoted around. "Your house backs up to the garden?"

"Yes."

Turning back to the windows, I walked to the one in the center and placed my fingers on the cool, glass pane. The cherry trees surrounding the garden rose before me, their fruit red and hearty, and their leaves green and soothing. And as I stood there and allowed it all to ground me, I let out a long breath, feeling my shoulders slacken and relax.

"You've always known how to calm me."

"I have always tried my best."

"The trees. Did you have them planted for me?"

"Yes."

I swallowed thickly. "Because…because I've _always_ loved them."

"Yes. You have."

"How long have you been living in Seattle, Edward?"

"A few months, ever since I found you."

I closed my eyes, blood pounding in my temples.

"And before that?"

"Before that…I've spent centuries all over the world, searching for you."

"I…don't even know what to say to that," I turned around and faced him, "or how to begin."

"Tell me where _you_ would like to begin, _Bella_." He emphasized my name, and again, he swept his arm, this time in a gesture for me to take a seat.

"Maybe you can start by telling me why your bedroom is soundproof and has no windows." I settled into an upholstered chair by the window. Edward lowered himself onto a loveseat opposite me, a few feet away, and half his mouth lifted into a crooked grin.

"Why do _you_ think my bedroom is soundproof and has no windows, Bella? Do you think it's so that no one can hear my victims' screams when I bring them back to my bedroom and ravage them? Do you picture me stalking the streets at night, kidnapping innocent maidens, and sucking the life out of them?" His nostrils flared. "Or am I that monster lurking in dark corners and alleys which all parents warn their young daughters of?"

"Now you're simply testing me, _trying_ to shock me."

"I am," he admitted bluntly.

"Exactly what reaction are you looking for? What did you expect me to-"

"What did I expect?" he countered. "I expected you to be my devoted _wife_! I expected you to see more than a monster, I expected you to see your husband!" When he banged a fist against the armrest, I heard the wood crack underneath before it splintered and fell apart. "I expected…" Suddenly, all the fire in his gaze seemed to leave him in a rush. With a deep and painful sigh of resignation, he sank back into his broken chair. "I expected too much, Bella, and that is entirely my fault, not yours."

"Edward, I don't think you're a-"

"I expected you to see me that first day in your lecture hall and to recognize me instantly." His ensuing smile was so wistful and despairing that my heart clenched painfully. "If not recognition in your eyes, I expected recognition in your heart and soul, in the very blood which flowed through your veins telling you that I was your _husband_. And once I realized that it would not be that simple nor that instantaneous, I told myself that all you needed was a reminder of my devotion – your name whispered in your ear with all my love poured into it or those eternal vows we once made one another spoken aloud once again, and it would all come rushing back to you. And as much as I've despised the agony your dreams have caused you, every time I saw you, I prayed they had finally woken your dormant devotion to _me_. But as I said, I expected too much."

"I…" I swallowed through the painful sting in my throat, "Edward, I'm sor-"

"Don't." He smiled sadly. Then standing, he walked to the windows and stood there with his back to me. "Please don't apologize. You don't need to justify or to apologize for anything here. I'm the one who's been pushing and pushing."

"That's why you…you remained on him, on that _thing_ in the alley - to open my eyes to _everything_ , once and for all."

"It is," he admitted after a couple of heartbeats.

"Were those men vampires as well?"

At this, he turned his head around to meet my gaze, brows lifted high as if he hadn't expected me to actually come out and say it.

"If you want to begin there," he shrugged, "no, they were not vampires, but neither were they mortal men."

"You ripped them apart. You tore them to shreds limb by limb. Then you…drank from the last one."

I started laughing. Quietly at first, then louder and louder while Edward turned around again, watching me through bemused eyes. "Oh God," I shook my head, still chuckling, "I can't believe I'm actually discussing these things. You're a vampire," and looking down at my bandaged hands and at my unblemished fingers, I added, "and I'm some sort of witch."

 _"_ _Witch_ is an archaic term for the power which flows within your veins."

I met his eyes again. "Seriously, we're going to argue semantics right now?"

He pursed his lips.

"How about Jasper and Emmett?"

"Also vampires," he nodded stoically, "as you so _semantically_ phrased it."

"Well, what do you call yourselves if not vampires?"

"Immortals, Predators, Undead, Afflicted, Scourge, Demigods." He shrugged his shoulders as casually as if we were discussing the different terms for a breed of monkeys. "The title we give ourselves depends on whether we're feeling more pity for ourselves or for humanity at the moment; although, the three of us are centuries past pitying our fate."

He held my gaze as if waiting for me to ask the follow-up question that was on the tip of my tongue, but which I simply wasn't ready to ask. And seeing my hesitation, he sighed. "The word _vampire_ is accurate."

"If those other men were neither mortal nor any of those terms you just mentioned, then what were they?"

"You tell me, Bella." No, he wouldn't let me run anymore. He was past allowing me to feign ignorance. "What were they?"

"Garwalf. Werewolves."

"Correct."

"Shapeshifters," I added. "Their faces changed. First, they were Jake, then they were-"

"None of them were Jake." I waited for him to elaborate. With a sigh, he scrubbed a hand down his face.

"That man you met and danced with on the rooftop that night was not Jacob," he sneered, and I only momentarily wondered how he even knew of that night. " _That_ was one of his pack. Jacob would never risk himself by making an appearance on a night when he knows I can easily overpower him. So he sends his creations, his minions if you will. _He_ will wait until the summer solstice."

"The summer solstice?"

"Bella," Edward said much more softly, "your ancestor's curse, Rena's curse, must be acknowledged _literally_. The shifters of her time were very powerful, but with every passing generation, their powers have diminished. Now, they need full moons to shift."

"We're in the middle of this month's full moons."

He nodded. "During full moons, shifters have greater powers than they normally do. However, my kind can still easily overpower them – except the closer we get to the solstice. They are more powerful during full moons that arise closer to the solstice, and it is harder to defeat them then. And on the night of the summer solstice, we are _all_ at our most powerful."

"You drank from one."

Edward shook his head. "My kind cannot drink from full-fledged shifters. Our…bloodlines are incompatible, you might say. The creature you saw me drink from was newly shifted – the blood flowing through his veins was still mostly human. At that point, yes, we can still drink from them."

"But if he was still mostly human, couldn't he have been saved instead of-"

"No, Bella," Edward said gently. "Once they have been bitten or scratched, they become shifters, and they answer to their master. There's no turning back. They are cursed, as we all are."

Again, he waited for me to ask, but I couldn't. Instead, I closed my eyes and shook my head.

"God, it's too much."

"It's a lot. I know," he acknowledged. "And we don't have to go through it all at this moment, but there are certain things we must clear up now."

I reopened my eyes. "If they're only powerful during full moons, why have you asked me to stay home after dark every night?"

"They are no danger to us on regular nights. But to you…that is a different matter. Besides," he smirked, "what would you have thought at the time if I said to you, 'Bella, please stay indoors after dark on the nights when the moon is full?'"

"I'll be honest," I snorted humorlessly, "it didn't sound much saner the way you originally phrased it."

He chuckled quietly, nodding. "No, I don't suppose it did." Then he frowned, his expression much more dismal. "Bella, Jacob…Jakob…Iakobus was always going to find you. He has searched for you for ages. He hides everywhere, behind any face, so it has been impossible for us to draw him out throughout the passing generations. And once I found you…he wasn't far behind. I'm so sorry."

"I don't blame you for any of this, Edward. I blame this…curse," I spat, "these myths. Yet at the same time," I snorted, "I hate myself for believing something so illogical."

"It is only illogical because all of us, all supernatural entities have written history to make you believe it illogical. We have been around since the beginning of record-keeping. We know how to keep ourselves hidden. So yes, your logic rebels against it, but deep inside you believe it because _you_ are part of this mythology. _You_ are at the core of it, my love. You always have been."

When he called me _my love,_ he poured so much emotion into those words that my heart soared and clenched painfully all at once.

"There's so much to take in and understand," I murmured.

"There is. But as I said, there is one thing of which you must be clear now. You must be ready for the solstice, Bella, for now that he knows where you are, on that night, he will try to claim you."

A shudder ran up my spine. "Jesus, what does he want from me?"

Edward locked me in his gaze. "He wants your power, plain and simple. He wants to combine his powers with yours and not only recuperate that strength which he has lost to Rena's curse, but he also wants to create a being more powerful than this world has ever known, and he wants to control it."

" _Fucking hell_ ," I breathed. "He wants to mate with me."

In an instant, Edward was on his knees in front of me. His hand shot up as if he'd touch me, but then he rested it back on his thigh. "I won't let it happen, Bella," he hissed. "I won't. You do not have to choose me." He swallowed. "I told the creature Jacob sent in that alley that you'd chosen me just to taunt him, but you do not have to choose me. On the night of the solstice, when he comes out of hiding, I _will_ destroy him, and I'll free you to choose whomever you want, to live your perfectly normal…mortal life any way you want."

My head swam in confusion. It was too much, too much to decide, to understand…to choose.

"So, I _am_ mortal?"

At this, he did lift his hand, and slowly, he palmed my cheek. And despite everything, I melted into the heat of his touch.

"You are very mortal, my love. But you are…you are Bellaria reborn," he swallowed, "a mortal with an ancient and extremely special bloodline, and as you saw in that alley, you possess great powers." His thumb caressed my jaw. "But you must learn how to use those powers and control them, and unfortunately, we only have a short period of time in which to work on that. There is much more we must discuss regarding your lineage, but this _must_ take precedence."

I lifted my own hand and brushed my free fingers across the scar on his face. His eyes fluttered closed, and he lifted his own hand to cover mine while a wistful expression engulfed his features. "You used to caress my scars all the time."

"My friend, Kate, doesn't see them," I murmured.

His eyes opened. "They are not visible, Bella. None of my scars are visible to mere mortals…only to _you_."

"Because I was your wife or because of my…powers?"

"I'm not sure, but it's most likely a bit of both," he smiled longingly.

"What about us, Edward? What happened to us? What _will_ happen with _us_?"

His nostrils flared with emotion, and he took my hand and brought it to his mouth, his warm lips grazing each one of my fingers. "We will discuss what happened to us, but Bella," he shook his head, his fiery gaze locked on mine, "there doesn't have to be an _us_ – not if you don't want it. I will _fight_ to ensure you have a choice."

He wanted his wife, and I…I simply wasn't her, not really. No matter what curse or powers or reincarnation existed, logically grounded twenty-six-year-old Bella of 2016 could never be impulsively impetuous eighteen-year-old Bellaria of 1086. We were too different, and he now saw that clearly.

So I simply nodded.

OOOOOOOOOO

As Edward drove me home a short while later, I stared unseeingly out of the windows. The streets of Seattle were rarely loud streets to begin. We weren't in L.A. or New York City. But a strange stillness seemed to thread through the streets. Block by block, an eerie calm had descended on the city, like a lull before an even greater storm.

Or perhaps, knowing what I knew now and knowing what was coming for me, it was all in my head.

I shuddered in my seat, my nerves once again making themselves known through the tingling in my fingers, a tingling I now knew wasn't anywhere near as benign as I'd always thought it; although, _how_ it worked, I had no idea.

And as always, as if he could sense my mood, Edward reached out and laced his fingers lightly through the unbandaged parts of mine. He gave me a sidelong glance.

"Don't be nervous. I won't let anything happen to you. None of us will, not I nor Jasper nor Emmett."

"Jasper and Emmett, your squire and my…brother."

"Yes," Edward said, his eyes on the windshield and his Adam's apple bobbing. "Emmett is your brother, and he'll be happy to know you're able to at least acknowledge that relationship."

"Edward-"

He let go of my hand to shift into park, and I looked around, realizing we'd arrived.

"One of us will come pick you up tomorrow afternoon," he said evenly, his eyes front and center with his hands now locked around the steering wheel. "And we'll go back to either the garden or to our house, whichever make you feel more comfortable. We'll discuss the rest, and we'll help you figure out how your gifts work."

"All business now," I said.

"It must be the priority, Bella. We'll work on it until you have it all figured out, and that accursed demon from hell," he gritted, "is no longer a threat to you."

I nodded casually. "Alright, but can you please just…answer me one more thing?"

He held my gaze stoically.

"I don't understand completely what you are. I mean, yes," I added quickly, "you're a vampire, and you frightened the hell out of me in that alley, but I _don't_ believe you're a monster. I'm just trying to wrap my head around all this."

"I understand."

I fought to keep my bottom lip from quivering. His wife had been a brave woman. I'd learned that much from my dreams.

"I want to know why your room is soundproof and why you have no windows - and don't tell me it's because you ravage people in there," I smiled faintly, "because I know you don't."

He exhaled through narrowed lips, his jaw clenched tightly for a few moments before he answered, his gaze cast downward.

"We sleep – nowhere near as much as required for…humans, but we do sleep." He met my eyes. "But because of our heightened senses, we need a space completely devoid of any noise or any stimulation."

"Hence the lack of windows and sound in your bedroom."

"Exactly," he breathed.

"Alright, Edward. I understand now. Thank you." When I turned to open my door, he held on to my fingers until I met his eyes again.

"You haven't asked me the most important question. You haven't asked me…how we feed."

Forcing myself to speak through the dryness in my throat because I knew anything less would be unacceptable, I posed the question I'd been avoiding since the moment I discovered what Edward really was.

"Edward…how do you feed?"

"In the past, before we learned self-control, we fed on humans, on the true scourge of the Earth - or at least on those who in our eyes as demigods," he sneered, "we deemed unworthy of living. Nowadays," he shrugged, "we hunt in the mountains."

"So when you went hiking the other day…?"

"We were feeding."

"Is it as satisfying as feeding on the scourge of the Earth?"

Again, his eyes grew wide as if he hadn't expected me to process and speak of it all so calmly. Then he snorted.

"It's not the same, no, but it's close enough. It's like trading steak for tofu."

"Hmm," I nodded, truly considering the difference. "Alright. I think I understand."

OOOOOOOOOO

I spent the rest of that day and night alone in my apartment, ignoring Kate and my father's texts and calls, catching up on university assignments which had gone neglected during my utter exhaustion. Now that I was well-rested, I could focus on grading, and I could distract myself with the television and normal books. I could almost pretend I wasn't Bellaria reborn.

Early the next day, I drove to the university to attend to my required office hours. I smiled and laughed with the administrators, thanking them for their well-wishes the previous day and explaining the accident I'd had on the sidewalk a couple of days earlier, which had caused the bandaged hands. I worked with a couple of students who needed extra help. Then I got back in my car and drove.

As soon as I parked in front of Edward's loft in Georgetown, he was in front of my driver's side door, pulling it open the second I unlocked it and reaching for my hand to help me up and out of the car.

"Bella, what are you doing here?" he asked, knitting his fingers through mine. "Your brother was to pick you up in a short while."

"I know," I nodded. "I know. And I know I'm Bellaria. I feel it in my bones, but at the same time, I _don't_ feel it, Edward."

"I understand, Bella."

"No, you don't." And despite all my plans to remain completely composed, my voice shook. "I have lived twenty-six years of my life as Bella Cullen. Twenty-six years, Edward, and I understand that to you, twenty-six years is less than a drop in the bucket, but to me, it's my entire life. Bellaria's life is to me nothing more than a recent dream, recollections that come in quick bursts and flashes. And I know you wanted her back-"

"Bella-"

"But I don't know if I can ever give her back to you. I don't know that I can ever be her. I don't _feel_ married."

His face fell, but he quickly recovered and tried to disguise the despair in his eyes by nodding stoically and casting his gaze downward between us. "I know, Bella. I know you don't."

I took a step forward, closing the space between us and waiting for him to lift his gaze back to me. "But I did _feel_ you, Edward. That day you walked into the lecture hall, I felt you in my heart and in my soul and in the blood that flows-"

Before I could finish, he slid his hands around my neck and pulled me in, crushing his mouth to mine. And I slipped my bandaged hands around his shoulders, exhaling in relief against his lips, reveling in their warmth as we stood out on the street hungrily bringing our mouths together, brushing our lips across each other's cheeks, eyes, and jaws, and pulling one another in closer and closer until we were almost one. I pulled away to breathe and because I simply had to finish what I'd tried to say before.

"I don't think we could ever be Lady Bellaria and Sir Edward again – no matter what. But can we try, somehow, through all this other madness, to be Bella and Edward? It might be the only way I'll make it through this without truly losing my mind."

Edward cradled my face in his hands, gazing at me with so much…fathomless devotion that I could feel it heating my blood.

"Bella, I don't need you to be exactly who you were then. All I need," he said slowly and emphatically, "all I dare hope is that you'll allow _me_ to be yours again despite what I am now."

I drew in a deep breath, smiling as I released it. "Edward," I kissed his warm hand and looked up at him, "what you are now is _all_ I've ever known. There's no comparison."

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **Chapter Song Rec:** _ **One Last Breath**_ **by Creed.**

 **BELLARIA won Third Place in the "Drop Everything Fic" category for the 2016 TwiFic Fandom Awards. Thank you. I'm truly honored. I was honored with a few other awards as well, including a Fandom Achievement Award. If you'd like, you can check them all out on my facebook group page. :)**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook: Stories by PattyRose**

 **See you guys next Monday!**


	15. Chapter 15 - Expanding Boundaries

**A/N: Thank you so much for all your wonderful thoughts. I thoroughly enjoy reading them.**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes (All remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is all mine.**

* * *

 **Chapter 15 – Expanding Boundaries**

 _Her long skirts hide the violent quake of her limbs as she waits for the heavy wooden doors leading into the castle's grand room to open. She is silently thankful for her captor's unawareness that it is his grip on her arm which is actually keeping her upright. The light from the torches illuminate the great hall, their flickering glow bringing inanimate objects to life with the dark shadows they cast upon the stone walls. The shadows dance in unnatural patterns which add to the burning affliction in her fingertips. She curls her hands into fists to still them._

" _Lord Jakob, I demand to be taken to meet with my husband and my father."_

" _Patience, my lady. We will soon meet with them," Jakob grins. "We await the arrival of additional guests who will complete our party."_

 _As he says this, footsteps resound down the dark, narrow corridor, their shadows growing as tall as ancient giants before spilling onto the stone ceiling and bending downward. When the approaching figures emerge from the hallway's obscurity, her eyes make out the rounded figure of the castle priest, Father Michel, and of her friend and former lady-in-waiting, Cateline._

" _Cateline!" she cries, dread for her friend coiling within her belly. "What are you doing here?"_

 _Cateline is unable to respond through her quivering lips._

" _You must flee, Cateline!" she warns, attempting to free herself from Jakob's grip so that she can go to her friend. But Jakob's hold tightens, and he digs his fingers deeper into her skin. "You must escape the castle's walls, for my father has descended into madness, and I know not what he-"_

" _Be at ease, my lady," Cateline finally responds. "Your father seeks my assistance in undoing the error of judgment you committed in his absence, nothing more."_

" _The error of judge…of what do you speak, Cateline?"_

" _You were betrothed to Lord Jakob, and it is he whom you should have wed. Now, your father wishes for me to…" She drops her gaze, and when she next speaks, it is a barely above a whisper. "Lady Bellaria, I will be a good wife to Sir Edward. I promise you."_

 _For a few moments, she is unable to understand the words which Cateline has spoken, or perhaps, she is unable to accept that she has heard them correctly. Her eyes shift from Cateline's shame-filled face to the impassive priest, then to the smugly-triumphant expression on Lord Jakob. Finally, they return to her one-time friend._

" _Christ's love, Cateline, what have you agreed to? What have you done?!"_

" _Bellaria," Cateline sobs quietly, "I did not mean for this to happen. I only wished to be of service!"_

" _The devil take your useless tears and mad desire to be of service!" she hisses furiously. "Know this: you will be my husband's next wife only over my dead body!"_

 _She lunges for Cateline, but Jakob's grip pulls both of her arms behind her back. "I believe we are ready to join your husband and your father. Come, my lady." He drags her toward the heavy doors. Behind her, Jasper struggles with his own captors. And behind them, Cateline and the priest await._

 _As the doors heave open, she turns and locks her gaze imploringly on Cateline. "Cateline, for the love of all that is holy and sacred, whatever they have asked of you, I beseech you not to do! We must_ _ **all**_ _stand strong against their combined madness! 'Tis the only way!" Jakob pulls her toward the doors, yet still, she pleads with her friend. "Promise me you will not bend, Cateline! Cateline, promise me!"_

 _Jakob jerks her arm hard and shoves her through the door, but when she looks up at him…he is no longer Jakob._

OOOOOOOOOO

"The circles under your eyes speak of another difficult night."

I nodded in acknowledgment as Edward brushed his fingers under my eyes, his touch already working to lull and calm me. When he leaned in closer and replaced his fingers with his lips, I sighed in contentment.

"God, your touch soothes me to my core," I admitted in a whisper.

"That's a good thing to know," he breathed, his voice shaky against my skin. "Because I do not think I possess the self-control to completely keep my hands off of you anymore. It has been too long."

Still bewildered by his referrals to a past I only remembered in bits and pieces, I responded only by winding my pinky finger around his and guiding us into his apartment building, where Jasper and Emmett waited. As we climbed up the steps leading to Edward's second and third-floor loft, he followed behind, his hands lightly around my waist, maintaining the physical and emotional connections we'd both just admitted to. We were past pretending otherwise with one another - regardless of the small fact that he wasn't a mortal being, and I had no idea what that meant for this "modern-day" version of us.

When we reached the landing, he turned me in his arms, and I lifted my bandaged hands lightly over his chest, looking into his bright green eyes.

"How are your hands?"

"They don't even hurt," I shrugged. "If it wasn't for the awkwardness of the bandages, I'd completely forget I'd scraped off my palms. I guess you did a good job of cleaning them up."

"We'll take another look at them," he nodded.

"Edward…may I ask another question?"

The smile he offered me held a hint of wariness, his Adam's Apple bobbing. "Of course."

"Why is the green in your eyes so bright?"

His eyes narrowed. "My eyes are black, Bella. After the change, all vampires have black eyes unless we have recently," he cleared his throat, "fed, in which case, they're-"

"Red. Yes, I saw that," I murmured. "And I've seen them black when you're angry. But sometimes, they're green – a brilliant almost glowing green."

He cradled my cheek in his hands "They _were_ green when I was human. Jasper's were blue, and your brother's were-"

"Brown, like mine. I see it. I see all three of you with your human eye colors."

He frowned in bemusement. "Perhaps you see our true eye color because of your gift. Perhaps their brilliance is your gift's manner of distinguishing them…of distinguishing _us_ and alerting you to the fact that we are not human."

"Maybe," I nodded pensively. "I suppose that makes as much sense as anything nowadays." When I brushed my fingers over the skin just under his eye, Edward released a long breath of air as his eyes fluttered closed.

"Your touch soothes me as well."

"Do you breathe, Edward?"

"I breathe out of habit not need," he reopened his eyes and smirked, "which I realize is inane considering the minuscule fraction of my existence which I lived as a human."

I resisted the urge to cringe at his use of the term _existence_ to characterize his life, especially as his eyes were firmly on mine, gauging my every reaction. He took my hand and placed it back on his chest - this time, directly over his heart. It didn't beat, and my own heart constricted at this obvious yet heartbreaking realization. Nevertheless, I kept my expression neutral. He didn't want my pity, I knew that, and he'd silently grieve if he mistakenly thought for a second that I felt disgusted.

"My heart does not beat," he confirmed much more somberly, "yet it still _feels_."

"What does it feel?"

"You tell me, Bella," he whispered intently. "You look in my eyes so carefully that you see nuances no one else sees. What else do you see beyond the dark abyss?"

"I see…that you feel everything."

He nodded, eyeing me intently. "With even more intensity than I did before the change."

I exhaled heavily, unable to speak for a few moments, and as if he understood all the things I was still unable to say, he took my hands in his and changed the subject.

"So, the dreams. They're keeping you awake again?"

I nodded grimly. "They're getting more and more…difficult."

"Do you want to discuss them?" he asked gently.

When I shook my head, a flicker of disappointment flashed across his face.

"Edward, I understand now why you insisted that I discover so much of what's happening through research instead of you simply telling me. If I hadn't slowly uncovered this much with only a few nudges in the right direction from you, Emmett, and Jasper, I would've never believed any of it," I admitted, "not in a million years."

"I know that," he said.

"In that same way, I feel as if these dreams are trying to show me more than just the mental images and memories they represent." I frowned. "I've got this sense that there's something in them that I have to work out on my own, or else I'll never truly understand whatever I'm supposed to understand from them."

"Alright," he agreed quietly, "but if you need me…"

"I know," I smiled. "I know you're here, and I appreciate it." Pushing myself up on my tiptoes, I kissed him softly, tangling my fingers in his hair, both of us sighing when we pulled apart.

"It _is_ strange, though, that when I was here the night before, I dreamed, but I still slept – quite a bit apparently. I simply went from dream to dream without waking in between. When I'm home, I toss and turn all night in between my dreams."

He scrutinized me carefully, his thumbs stroking my fingers. "Why do you think that might be?"

"I have my suspicions, but there's still so much I don't understand - so much to consider. May I ask something else?" I countered instead.

"You're still a curious one," he observed. "That hasn't changed."

" _I'm_ an academic," I pointed out. Despite now knowing that I was her and she was me, I couldn't help feeling…uncomfortable whenever he compared me to Bellaria.

"Are you planning on writing a book on this?" He lifted an eyebrow.

"Of course not, no. But I'd like to know as much about it, as much about _you_ , as possible – if you don't mind the intrusive questions."

He shook his head and slid his hand around the nape of my neck. "Bella, I don't mind the questions, and I'll be completely honest with my responses. If you choose to spend your life with me," he said carefully and slowly, "then there will be much to consider, yes. So, of course, you may ask all the questions you want. My only fear is that you'll ask something for which the answer will be unacceptable."

My heart clenched painfully, more because I couldn't at that moment, in all honesty, guarantee him that I'd never reach that point. I simply didn't know enough yet. So instead, I squeezed his hand and wondered if, between my bandages and his superhuman strength, he even felt it. And as much as I could, I reassured him with my words.

"I promise you that if we ever get to that point, I'll let you know. But, Edward, I'm now seeing the world through new eyes, where the boundaries are so much wider than I once believed. And with every day, with every hour that passes, those boundaries grow."

The guilt-ridden, agonized look in his eyes made me wonder if I'd somehow offered the opposite of reassurance.

"I've taken away the safety of your world."

"You _know_ that's not true," I contradicted pointedly. "MY world has apparently never been safe. He would've found me eventually, and without you, I would've had no idea what was going on. You've taken off my blinders."

He snorted self-deprecatingly, looking away from me and shaking his head while his nostrils flared. "Semantics again. Alright," he sighed in a tone that made it clear he didn't actually believe it was alright. "Go ahead and ask away."

"What did you three do all this time, for all these years?"

"Christ's love, you definitely don't ask the questions I expect you to ask."

"Give me a few. I'm just warming up."

At this, he did chuckle, bringing up one of our joined hands to his mouth. His lips brushed my fingers back and forth, and his eyes took on an almost glazed look as if lost in memories of the past.

"What didn't we do, Bella? That would probably be the simpler question. We've existed for almost one thousand years, and we've pretty much done it all – climbed every mountain, swam every sea. We're doctors, scientists, investors, writers, researchers, etcetera, etcetera. Of course, our research… _your_ research was always at the forefront of all our endeavors. You see, our personalities more or less continued after our change – well, once we learned self-control, I should say."

"In what ways did they continue?" I asked curiously, relieved not only by his promised frankness but also by his apparent comfort with this line of questioning.

"Take your brother, Emmett, for example. Even now, he's within the apartment practically bouncing off the walls as he impatiently awaits your arrival."

I couldn't help laughing, even more so when Edward laughed along with me.

"He has always been the more gregarious of us, the least disturbed by our immortality and all that existence entails. In the beginning, there were, of course, matters which greatly agonized him, such as being forced to leave behind those he loved because he simply did not know how to control his thirst – none of us did in the beginning."

"He changed first," I said, startling myself with the sudden realization.

"Yes, he did. But I'll allow him to explain that to you. Nevertheless, once Jasper and I went through the…change, the three of us took care of certain pressing matters - which we'll also discuss," he added off-handedly. "Afterward, Emmett was the one who was able to settle into our new world with the most ease."

"So lots of mountain climbing?" I chuckled uneasily.

"Yes. Plus, he's always had his flirtations to distract him."

"Flirtations?"

"With the females of our kind."

"There are…females of your kind?"

"Of course." He shrugged as if that should've been obvious. "A thousand years is a long time to exist without companionship. Emmett has had flirtations, a relationship or two, as Jasper has had."

He may have said more along those lines, but I'd gotten stuck on the phrase, _females of our kind._

"I think some of Emmett's story has come to me in my dreams," I nodded, attempting to stay with the flow of conversation. "There was a woman…a beautiful blond woman and an infant girl…"

"Yes, Bella," Edward nodded. "Yes, and they are crucial to a discussion of your lineage; therefore, it is one of those priorities we must discuss."

"And Jasper?" I asked. "What's his innate personality?"

"Jasper has always had a voracious appetite…for knowledge," he smirked.

"Are you… _teasing_ me now?"

When he threw back his head and roared with laughter, confirming my suspicion, it was one of the most beautiful and _serene_ sights I'd ever seen. More than ever, I could clearly see why _Bellaria_ once worshiped this man. When he was joyful, it was an awe-inspiring sight.

"In all seriousness," he said once his amusement dissipated, "since the very beginning, Jasper has struggled the most with the fact that we feed on…on…"

"On _blood_?" I prompted.

"Yes," he breathed out in apparent relief, "on _blood_."

"Come on," I pursed my lips, "if you can tease me about voracious appetites, then you can say _blood_ to me."

His ensuing snort was much less mirthful than was his laugh a few moments earlier. "It seems I'm having as much difficulty believing we're truly discussing these things as you were having yesterday." Then, scrutinizing me carefully first, he continued. "In conjunction with our research on your lineage, Jasper scoured the world for every tome or artifact he could find regarding our kind. And when he exhausted that information, he simply read everything else on anything else. I don't think there is one book in existence which he hasn't read."

"So he's a literal expert on everything."

"Literally," Edward grinned. "In fact, he's actually the one who whispered _our_ tale in the ears of so many literary greats. It is why you and I were recreated in _Tristan and Isolde_ , in _Camelot_ , in _Robin Hood_ , and in _Romeo and Juliet_. It was he who gave them our story in what they believed were casual conversations. And the rest of Emmett and Jasper's stories, I truly think they should tell you themselves."

"That's…mind-blowing," I sighed, "knowing that you and Bellaria have been-"

"You mean that _you_ and I have been," he corrected.

"You and I," I acknowledged awkwardly, "have been the inspiration for so many literary works of art, and yet you, ESOM, Edward, son of the mason, remained hidden."

He shrugged. "My purpose in writing of your ancestor and in writing _The Verse for Bellaria_ was for you to have it once you returned. It was not to earn literary accolades of any sort."

"But how did you know she'd return?"

"You mean how did I know _you'd_ return?"

I closed my eyes and exhaled. "Yes. How did you know _I'd_ return?"

He held my gaze wordlessly. "Come," he finally said, gesturing with a nod toward the door to his loft. "We will discuss it all in more depth by your garden."

I remained rooted to my spot. "Edward…" I swallowed nervously when he looked at me again, "you haven't said how you've kept busy for almost a thousand years." As I spoke, he inched closer. "Have _you_ read everything, done everything, and been everywhere? Have you whispered tales or had flirtations with immortal women?" I paused. "Have you fallen in love throughout the ages?"

Half of his mouth curved upward as he slid a hand through my hair and gently tugged me forward, softly pressing his mouth to mine. "Bella, you can't fall into something you've never climbed out of in the first place or pull yourself out of somewhere you never wish to leave," he breathed tenderly against my lips. "It would be like digging out of a well when that well is the only one in the entire world providing water."

"God, is that how much you loved her?"

He squared his jaw impatiently now, framing my face between his hands firmly and locking me in his fiery gaze. " _You_ , Bella; that's how much I've loved _you_."

My head spun, and for all the talk of water, my mouth felt as parched as a desert. Despite all my questions, despite his open answers and despite the fact that yes, I now believed it all, it was still so difficult to understand and _accept_. So instead, I dropped my bewildered gaze between us and rested my forehead on his chest, a chest with no heartbeat. And even before I spoke the words, I knew how ridiculously masochistic they were, how painful they'd be for the both of us to hear spoken aloud. Yet, like a coward, I went ahead and blurted them anyway.

"Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how one looks at it, during no time in history has love been an absolute requirement for physical comfort, for men or for women."

He didn't respond right away, but his chest rose and fell as if his non-existent breathing was suddenly labored. I squeezed my eyes shut. When he placed his finger under my chin and gently but firmly picked my head up, waiting for me to meet his eyes, I knew my gaze was full of regret for my thoughtless words.

His gaze was full of fire.

"What is it you're truly asking here yet fail to ask plainly, Bella? I don't care for what has or has not been a requirement throughout history," he hissed. " _I_ never stopped being a married man. Since the day I fell in love with you, with your _soul_ , since the day I plighted thee my troth, there has been no other woman, mortal or immortal, for love or flirtation or anything else, physical or otherwise. Is that plain enough for you?"

I swallowed through the constriction now closing off my throat. Yet at the same time, my selfish heart soared, elated by this further proof of his never-ending, absolutely faithful devotion to Bellaria – to… _me_ – and devastated by this further proof of the abysmal loneliness of such a long, never-ending _existence_ , as he continually called it.

"Bella, you and I were always very jealous creatures when it came to one another. I see that hasn't changed either."

When I was finally able to speak, my voice came out as nothing more than a strangled whisper. "But Edward, _I_ didn't know about you…or about us."

"I know, Bella." He smiled tenderly, sparing me the guilt and humiliation of what he knew I was trying to say. His lips brushed my forehead, and he pulled me flush against him, wrapping me tightly in his strong embrace. "I know you didn't. Now come, my love There's much more to discuss, and they're waiting."

OOOOOOOOOO

Jasper and Emmett greeted me with impatient and ecstatic smiles, like the return of the prodigal friend, sister…and horribly neglectful and unfaithful wife.

" _Now_ , can I hug her?"

Emmett grinned widely when I walked through the door, which helped me greatly in shaking off my morose inner thoughts. I recalled that first day in the garden when I'd _met_ him, how impatient and frustrated he'd seemed as he stood there while, as I now understood, pretending not to _know_ me.

His ensuing embrace was rough and tumble and surprisingly not in an unexpected manner as if although I didn't exactly know him, some inner part of me did. He lifted my feet off the floor, ignoring Edward's protests and warnings to be careful with me.

"Dude, calm down," he rolled his eyes. "She's my sister, and she's always been tougher than she looks."

"I guess that's a compliment?" I wondered aloud as I extracted myself, making him laugh heartily.

Jasper's embrace was much more awed and reverent. "My lady, it's wonderful to finally have you back with us."

"Thank you, Jasper. But…you know you don't have to call me _my lady_."

"Oh, I know that," he smiled serenely. "I simply enjoy calling you _my lady_. It's how I've thought of you for all these centuries."

Once again, I disguised any overt signs of the bewilderment rambling in my head at the knowledge that I'd been the center of their existences for so long, yet I was only now even beginning to remember them.

And once again, they'd set up a table and four chairs, but this time it was in the center of the sunroom instead of the garden. The table was laid out with a tray full of fruits and appetizers, a pitcher of pink lemonade, and a selection of tea bags with all required tea implements.

"I suppose this is all for me?" I asked, knowing what I now knew of their diet.

"Of course," Edward replied, grinning. He pulled out my chair, and when I sat, he adjusted my long hair behind me so that it wouldn't snag between my neck and the chair's back. "If there's anything that's missing from the selection, just let me know, and I can make a quick trip to the market."

When I looked up at him with a frown, there was no trace of teasing in his expression.

"This is more than enough. Thank you."

"Very well," he chuckled.

He took a seat next to me, and for the next few minutes, the four of us fell into the sort of warm-up banter which friends who haven't seen one another in a while fall into.

" _So what do you think of Seattle's waterfront revival?"_

" _How does it compare to waterfronts throughout the world and centuries?"_

" _What do you think the Mariners' chances are this year?"_

The entire time, in the back of my mind, and I was sure that in the back of theirs as well, there was the knowledge that the easy banter couldn't last. We were _not_ four normal people who hadn't seen one another in a year or even in a decade and were now simply catching up on baseball statistics. _They_ weren't human, and _I_ was something _other_ , and two days ago, we'd all seen one another in action. And the reality was that we had much more critical and almost unbelievable matters to discuss.

Yet, when I finished picking from the spread, Jasper leaned back against his chair, his gaze moving to the windows and to the garden outside as if we had all the time in the world to shoot the breeze.

"I see we're having another great day weather-wise, my lady."

"It is, isn't it?" I agreed, joining in his admiration of the weather and the garden view.

"What do you see in the garden today, Bella?" Jasper asked casually.

"What do I see?" I echoed. "I see the sun peeking through clouds that are light and gauzy. Do you see those rays? They look like some sort of heralds right over the cherry trees," I grinned. "And look at how the birds chase one another from tree to tree. You can almost hear them singing through the windows. And the pond," I sighed. "It sparkles with the reflection of the sun. It's all so beautiful."

"It is," Jasper acknowledged. "Do you know why Edward recreated that garden?"

I shifted my eyes back to him, somewhat startled by the straightforwardness of the question. "I suppose…he recreated it for me."

Edward took my hand and laced our fingers together, lightly molding them around his own.

"Yes, for you," Jasper smiled. "There was a garden very similar to that one in the back of the cottage where you and he lived as husband and wife."

My eyes quickly moved to Edward for confirmation, which he provided with a nod.

"I don't remember that," I admitted. With a sigh, I returned my gaze to the window, where a cloud now hovered near the sun.

"When you were Bellaria," he blurted, making me stiffen in my seat, "you tended to it religiously. You were a lover of nature even then. You planted roses and lavender and medicinal herbs while the rest of us toiled in the fields of wheat. But you were a good mistress. You brought us drink and food in the middle of the day, and you bade us rest while you read to us. It was you who taught me to read and to love the written word."

"I don't remember," I repeated. I kept my gaze on the windows, where just moments earlier, the birds outside had been singing and soaring. Now, they'd disappeared into the trees.

"Some of your past life will return to you. Some of it might remain locked within your subconscious forever. It is difficult for two completely separate lives to exist in one soul."

"I'm sorry," I said. My fingers twitched. In the distance, I thought I heard the low rumble of thunder. "I'm sorry, but I just don't remember those parts."

Edward gave my fingers a careful squeeze. "It's alright, my love. Don't apologize, Bella." Out of my periphery, I could see the tight knit of his brows.

"Yes, my lady. I don't tell you these things for your apology or for your remorse." Jasper paused. "However, I do wonder how much you recall of the night when Jakob and his men came for us in that cottage."

My breath hitched, completely taken aback by the direction in which Jasper had suddenly led the conversation.

"Jasper, stop. You're upsetting her." Edward's words rumbled in his chest, competing with the thunder which was now beginning to roll closer.

"What the hell are you doing, Jasper?" Emmett growled low from his chair at my other side.

Jasper ignored them both. "They came for us while your husband was at the castle. They came under cover of darkness and with about a dozen shifters we thought to be mortal men. But these _men_ easily slew the three dozen strong and well-trained men under your husband's command. They murdered everyone there except for you and me."

My heart pounded wildly in my chest, my eyes wide and frozen on the darkening landscape outside of the windows.

My hands shook.

"For Christ's love, Jasper," Edward hissed through clenched teeth, "stop this!"

"Jakob entered the cottage and struck you – twice. Then he threatened to…to commit even more heinous acts against your person. Do you recall that?"

"I...I…" I heaved, unable to speak as the dark memories flashed in my head.

Edward pushed his chair back so hard and so fast that it skidded across the room and crashed against the wall before crumbling into pieces. "Stop this NOW!" he roared.

"Then he dragged the both of us out of that cottage, and I saw you look back at the garden as we rode away, the fear in your-"

Edward lunged over the table, breaking it and knocking all the dishes and the food to the floor - and Jasper on top of it all. Fists began to fly, Edward landing one and then Jasper another. They rolled around and broke more furniture, the sofas and the TV on the wall. One would be on top and in control, and then in the next split-second, the other would overpower him.

All the while, Emmett and I stood in the middle of the room. He held me behind him as he stood above them. And when I looked up, his eyes were as black as the skies outside had grown, and his chest heaved, nostrils flaring. His hands were in fists, ready to pounce, but I had no idea in defense or against which one.

Maybe it was that uncertainty which caused what happened next.

When Jasper flew against the wall, denting and cracking the plaster from the force of impact, at first I thought Edward threw him. Emmett shifted, but I had no idea to do what. Suddenly, he was frozen to his spot mid-stride and his arms suspended in mid-air, his wildly shifting eyes the only part of his body moving. When both his and Edward's shocked eyes remained on me, I turned my attention inward.

My hands were up and in front of me, fingers extended…one hand toward Jasper and the other toward Emmett. As soon as I dropped them, Emmett straightened out with a long gasp and Jasper's frame fell to the ground.

"Oh God," I breathed, turning over my hands. "Oh God. Oh God, Oh God, Oh God." I dug them into my thighs, curling them to stop their violent shaking.

Edward quickly cradled me in his arms, and I buried my face against his chest, watching through one eye as Jasper stood and shook off bits and pieces of wall and plaster from himself.

"Shh," Edward cooed, stroking my hair and brushing his lips over my head. "It's okay, Bella. It's okay, my love."

"I thought…I thought they were going to hurt you. What did I…I almost…I could've…"

"Shh." Edward pressed me tighter to his chest. "It's okay. Nothing happened."

"But I could've…"

"I'm so sorry, my lady," Jasper murmured. He approached me carefully, warily, one of his palms up in a gesture of surrender while he used the other to rub at his chest around and around. There were still-smoldering burn marks on his shirt along with a gaping hole in the middle of it. Yet other than that, physically, he seemed fine. "It was the only way I knew to make your powers show themselves."

"You fool; you mean you did this on _purpose_?" Edward spat furiously.

"It was the only way I knew to have her manifest her gift!"

"We agreed we would carefully discuss-"

"The solstice is less than a month away! We no longer have the luxury of time for careful discussion, Edward!"

"She could've really hurt you…perhaps even ended you," Emmett said.

"I trusted that she would know to stop herself from striking me with the full force of her gift, that she would _control_ it."

"But I can't _control it_!" I hissed, glaring at Jasper. "I can't control anything around me!"

"That is where you are wrong, my lady," Jasper replied. "Look at how the weather has changed outside."

I lifted my head from Edward's chest and moved my eyes to the windows where the garden outside was now bathed in darkness, clouds hovering low among the trees, and the small pond reflecting the blackened sky.

"What are you saying?" I looked up at Edward. "Is he saying _I_ did that?"

"Yes, my love," Edward answered, brushing his lips against my forehead. "Your moods alter the weather surrounding you; they affect the flowers' blooms, the air's warmth, the birds' songs..."

I jerked away from him, shaking my head wildly. "That's impossible. I don't have that kind of control on nature."

All three men watched me silently.

"I don't have that kind of fucking control on nature!" I repeated, panic bubbling inside as flashes…images of a volcano erupting in the distance filled my mind. "I would've noticed!"

"Bella..." Edward extended his hand toward me, and despite my shock and bewilderment or perhaps because of it, I met it with my own. I reached for him the way one reaches for the edge of a cliff when they're about to fall off. He pulled me back toward him, and when he spoke, his voice was gentle yet firm.

"You haven't controlled it all your life, only since your mind has begun to awaken. Before that, perhaps it was just a tree that bloomed as you sat under it or a cloud that disappeared when you smiled. It was that way when you were Bellaria, but I never realized…our minds were closed to all the wondrous possibilities. But now…Bella, if all the research we've conducted throughout the ages is correct, if Rena's words were true, then your gift is beyond measure."

All my breath left me in a rush, and it was Edward's hold on me that kept me upright.

"Bella…" Carefully, and with his eyes on mine, Edward picked up one of my hands between us and began unwrapping the gauze. Around and around he went until it was all off, and then he let the pristine, white strip fall to the floor.

Despite the horrible and excruciatingly painful way I'd chafed off all the skin on my palms just forty-eight hours earlier, my hand, which should have been scarred for life, was immaculately smooth.

Completely healed.

"What the actual…who the actual fuck _am_ I?"

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **Some of you have figured out exactly what's going on. Others are so close. :)**

 **I know you all want to know exactly how many chapters are left, but I don't have an exact number since it's still a work in progress. But I'm estimating we'll go to somewhere around 25 chapters, give or take.**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook:** **Stories by PattyRose**

 **See you guys on Monday!**


	16. Chapter 16 - Open to Interpretation

**A/N: This chapter is a few days late. Blame the Fates, blame the writer's block which struck out of the blue, blame a busy week. Heck, blame the roaring blizzard outside my window right now!**

 **I posted a teaser for this chapter on Facebook over a week ago. Unfortunately, once I wrote the chapter, the teaser was pushed back to the next chapter. Sorry!**

 **Yes, I'm a mess this week. :)**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes, who somehow kept her patience with me this week! (All remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

* * *

 **Chapter 16 – Open to Interpretation**

 _The thirst is indescribable._

 _It is worse than a raven's claws scraping up and down his throat, more excruciating than a thousand sharpened blades slicing through his esophagus. It is a craving that seeps into his very bones, into his veins, and wraps itself around his every thought, consuming him. Only one thing ever begins to quench the thirst. Only one thing ever begins to alleviate the never-ending drought, and if he does not drink soon, if he does not…feed, he will lose his mind and do what has become unimaginable._

 _Even now, as she lies sleeping peacefully with her beautiful chest rising and falling, he can almost taste her, savor her unique scent drifting in the moist air. It is richer than any other scent he has ever known. Her head lolls sideways, exposing her long, smooth neck, and he must remind himself that she is unaware of what she does, of the torture she inflicts on him, and of the mortal peril in which she places herself._

 _His mouth waters as he watches the throbbing pulse in her neck. Instinctively, the venom which would paralyze her and leave her defenseless coats his throat. He groans, turning his eyes away, glaring at the sun outside and beseeching it to set, to bring about blessed darkness. He knows not how much longer he can refrain from taking that for which he longs. To withhold is pure agony, for it is against his nature._

 _When the dark of night finally falls, he carefully rises from the bed, leaving her so that he may hunt for prey…so that he may save her from himself…_

OOOOOOOOOO

I startled awake, curving my fingers around my neck as I choked on what felt like a piece of sandpaper that had been shoved down my throat. Only, as soon as I scanned my surroundings, I knew it was an impossibility. No one had shoved anything down my throat because I'd awoken in Edward's bedroom, the classically elegant room with no windows and no echoes in the home inhabited by three vampires who were all willing to give up their immortal lives for their Lady Bellaria. I was perfectly safe from physical harm, if not from my own mind.

Yet the knowledge that it was all in my head did nothing to quell the bewildering thirst that threatened to drive me mad once and for all. I quickly sat on the mattress and slung my back against the wrought iron headboard. With one hand still on my throat, I fumbled for the water pitcher on the nightstand with my other hand, filling the adjacent glass. As I desperately brought the glass to my mouth, the contents sloshed onto Edward's immaculate nightstand and spilled onto his pristine white carpet. What little was left swirling in the glass, I gulped down like a sailor who'd been lost at sea for weeks.

It took four refills filled to the very rim before the maddening thirst gave even a hint of receding. Chest still heaving, I lay back on the warm mattress and fisted my hair, glaring up at the ceiling while I willed the remainder of the phantom thirst to dissipate.

"It's not my thirst. It's not _my_ thirst."

Not for the first time in the past few weeks, I wondered if I'd indeed lost my mind. Turning onto my side, I cocooned myself inside the soft blankets Edward bought specifically for me, and I wrapped my arms around the soft pillow also purchased for my comfort, trying to lose myself to any other thoughts besides those of a thirst that I knew wasn't real. Instead, I focused on everything I'd learned in the past few days, and on what I'd done as recently as a few hours ago.

OOOOOOOOOO

After I literally put Jasper through a wall, he, Edward, and Emmett cleaned up the sunroom with disconcerting speed. Meanwhile, I stood around staring at my perfectly healed hands, too dumbfounded to offer much assistance. Outside, the clouds which had gathered and darkened the sky minutes earlier now withered into a gauzy, gray mist; like my fingers, they were no longer quite as threatening.

Either way, it didn't appear as if the three Vampire Musketeers needed my assistance with much of anything. They blurred around me picking up pieces of the broken table and chairs, shattered dishes, spilled food, and then hauled it all out of the room, reappearing a handful of seconds later for more. Each time they stood still for a moment, they reassured me that everything was fine, that I shouldn't concern myself with any of the damage as if I'd merely spilled coffee on their rug.

I gasped when I was drawn into a strong chest and then engulfed by a pair of warm, secure arms. Edward's fingertips ghosted up and down my spine while his angular jaw skimmed a similar path along the side of my face. At the same time, he murmured soft, soothing words as his warm breath fanned against my cheek, and I released a series of uneven sighs in relief. Only then did I realize how much I'd needed his touch. I wrapped my arms tightly around his lean hips and pressed myself deeper into him.

"I didn't mean to."

"Shh, it's alright, my love. We know you didn't. It's alright. Everything will be fine, Bella."

For one long moment, we stood alone in the destroyed sunroom, Emmett and Jasper having disappeared with the last of the scrap. Edward breathed his reassurances over and over, his mouth softly puckered against my temple, my cheek, and my jaw, until I couldn't bear the deprivation any longer, and I angled my head upward, searching for his lips. When our mouths finally met, we both sighed, our breaths mingling into one. Then he cupped my cheek and took my lips tenderly between his, first one and then the other, easing his tongue inside and brushing it languidly to mine. He stroked my cheek with his thumb. With his other hand, he stroked and gripped my waist. His every action was meant to soothe, to calm.

When I finally pulled away and met his eyes, Edward's gaze was as intense and patient as ever. And it was that never-ending patience which made my spine stiffen, and filled me with an inexplicable and unreasonable sense of indignation.

"What exactly am I, Edward? Besides the lovely _Bellaria_ , what am I?"

He cradled the nape of my neck, and if he was startled by the sudden change in me or by the tone of sarcasm, he didn't show it. "We're not exactly sure. In the space of a millennium, that question is part of a greater puzzle to which we have never found a perfectly clear answer."

"But you must have some sort of idea," I insisted.

"You are Rena's descendant," he replied calmly.

"That much, I know. Rena, who married a shifter she repelled, who saw her dead ancestors in her dreams, and whose fury erupted a volcano with enough force to bury an entire city for almost two-thousand years."

"And you are supposed to be even more powerful than she was." His fingers massaged my nape.

"Is that supposed to _comfort_ me?" I asked incredulously. My sense of indignation only multiplied and festered at the awe in his tone. And I purposely fought against the calm threatening to consume me with his ministrations. "Besides, at no point does the curse-"

"The _gift_ ," he corrected, now running his fingers down the length of my hair.

"Oh, come on. Let's not argue semantics _now._ This is no fucking gift. This is a curse. And as you said yourself, Rena's _curse_ ," I stressed, "must be taken literally. At no point did she mention the ability to lightning-speed heal from wounds which should've left permanent scars."

"Some parts should be taken literally, yes," he agreed with that maddening patience, "while others must be open to informed interpretation."

I stared at him for a few seconds, refusing to blink, refusing to give into the addictive lull of his touch. Then I snorted. "Almost one thousand years, and that's the best you could come up with, _informed interpretation_ ," I echoed in a purposely dry, mocking tone. "In the world of academia, there's a word for that type of vague conclusion. We call it bullsh-"

Edward quickly cradled my head between his large, strong hands. Of course, his grip wasn't entirely constricting, but the fingers outstretched on either side of my face felt undeniably rigid and inflexible. That, in combination with the abrupt, tight set of his jaw and with the flare of his nostrils made me suspect that his never-ending patience with me might finally be wearing thin.

"You want to know _exactly_ what conclusion almost one thousand damned years of research has led me to, Miss Academia?" he hissed. "It's led me to believe that even as Rena spoke the _curse_ ," he sneered, "she was not fully aware herself of all the power she was handing down to the chosen one of her bloodline. I believe the gift of self-healing came from the Gypsy, from her lover, which is why Rena perished at Pompeii along with everyone else. _She_ was not immortal." He held my gaze meaningfully.

"Are you suggesting the Gypsy was immortal?"

Instead of responding, he quirked a brow.

"Wait a minute, are you suggesting _I'm_ immortal?" Truly horrified now, I tried to pull away, but Edward grabbed my arms in an uncompromising grip.

"No, Bella, I do not believe you are a true immortal. Besides the obvious difference in diets," he smirked, "your manner of healing is very different and much slower than ours. It is not lightning-speed; your hands took a couple of days to fully heal. What's more, that night in the alley proved that you _can_ be hurt, and if you sustained an instantaneously mortal wound, it _would_ kill you." Here, he visibly cringed, his powerful arms shaking in a long shudder. It took him a few seconds to continue. "What I believe is that your ability to heal at a tremendously swift pace allows you greater…flexibility, if you will, within the confines of your mortality."

"What the hell does that even mean, Edward?"

With a deep breath, he took both of my hands in his and turned my palms upward. His eyes still on mine, his lips brushed over the smooth skin of one palm and then the other.

"I'm suggesting that with your mind's awakening, your body can now learn to heal itself from certain injuries. I believe that your body can slow down and reverse injuries and diseases which would be a death sentence to regular mortals. I believe you can…halt the symptoms of aging to the point where you could live a much longer life than the average human. Bella…" his eyes bored deeply into mine, "I believe you could be immortal if you _chose_ to be. Now that your mind has been opened to your gift, your possibilities as Rena's chosen descendant are almost limitless."

"That's impossible," I breathed, my eyes so wide they felt as if they would pop out of their sockets.

"Is it?" he challenged. "After everything you've seen these past couple of weeks, after everything you've learned, do you truly intend to stand here and claim you believe such things to be an impossibility?"

"Maybe what I should say is that such things should be impossible," I spat furiously, bewildered by such unimaginable possibilities to the point where I could barely even think straight. "No one should have such unlimited possibilities. It's not normal. It's not part of the natural life cycle. It's not human, and I don't _want_ those possibilities!"

I realized what I saying, what I was implying, a fraction of a second before the stricken look of anguish engulfed Edward's features. I regretted the words just as quickly. I regretted them even as I spoke them.

But as usual, Edward quickly hid the pain I'd just inflicted, masking it behind a stoic wall and an impenetrable black gaze.

"Jesus, Edward, I didn't mean-"

"As I said, Bella, I believe it is all your choice. _You_ get to choose what you want from life: an immortal one with…all that may entail, or a perfectly normal, mortal one – or one somewhere in between; it's all up to you." He released my hands and let them fall limply between us. "If immortality and the possibilities that come with it are not options you want to explore," he shrugged, "then you don't need to."

"I didn't mean it that way," I said, gripping his rigid arm while shame and remorse burned through me like acid. "All of this has me going crazy, and I know it's making me difficult to deal with, and I-"

"It's fine, Bella," he cut me off. "You're not being difficult. All this has been thrust at you seemingly out of nowhere, and as I've said before, you don't need to explain yourself. You certainly shouldn't feel forced to make any life-altering decisions while you're confused – while this business with Jacob is unresolved." The ensuing smile he gave me didn't reach his darkened eyes, yet the tenderness seeped back into his voice as if he simply couldn't remain upset with me. "Bella, my love, with your awakening, we can now work together to find those answers which have eluded us, but that puts you under _no obligation_."

My shoulders sagged. "Edward-"

He leaned in and dropped his head to my eye level, locking me in his burning gaze. "Once this confrontation with Jacob is behind us, you _will_ have the future you want, wherever that may lead. I vow _that_ to you."

"As opposed to the vows we once made one another?"

He snorted, that empty smile still on his face. "That was a very long time ago, in another life."

Tears stung my eyes, and unable to speak through a constricted throat, I took his hands instead, squeezing them as hard as I could, digging my fingertips into his knuckles and hoping he saw it for the apology it was.

"I'll try not to hurt you with my fingers," I teased weakly.

He smirked just as half-heartedly. "You will never hurt me with your gift."

"No, I'll just hurt you with my thoughtless words."

The forced smile fell from his mouth. "It's not thoughtless to want to be your own person. You have always spoken your mind. That is nothing new." He squeezed my hands in return, yet it was my heart which constricted painfully.

"Edward, I just feel as if I'm spiraling out of control."

"You _can_ control your gift," he insisted, misunderstanding me. "It's simply a matter of learning how."

"I'm not talking about the _gift_." I cupped his rugged cheek, my thumb tracing the thin, jagged outline of his scar – the scar only I could see. Edward closed his eyes and sighed. "I'm talking about _us_ – you and me. What does it mean when only _I_ can see and feel this?" I murmured. "What does it mean when I _destroy_ half a dozen shifters to protect you, and I feel no remorse whatsoever, or when I don't give a second thought to hurting Jasper or freezing Emmett, who is supposed to be my own brother, to defend you? My God, what does it mean when I can't control what I feel for you as if I've never really had a choice in the matter?"

Reopening his eyes, Edward locked me in his intense gaze and reached for the hand with which I cupped his cheek, guiding it to his mouth for a soft kiss of reconciliation.

"You have choices. You _will_ have a choice," he gritted vehemently. "Bella, despite the fact that his mode of operation was reckless, Jasper was correct about one thing: time is of the essence. I wish I could just shield you from all of this, or at the very least, introduce you to it all slowly to give you time to process and to…figure out what you want," he swallowed, "but there is still much we must cover." Then he pulled me into his arms so suddenly as if despite his words, he simply _couldn't_ hold back and wait. Crushing me to his chest, he brushed his lips against my scalp, and I slid my arms around him in apology for all I couldn't say. For a few seconds, I felt his mouth on my scalp moving around murmured words only he could hear, and I could only imagine.

"Come," he finally breathed.

OOOOOOOOOO

When we walked into the living room, everything looked so normal that I could almost believe the last few minutes hadn't happened. This part of the house was untouched by the madness that had occurred a short while earlier…except, perhaps for the fireplace. The magnificent brick fireplace took up an entire wall, and it was already lit and roaring with kindling that looked suspiciously like chair legs.

Edward took a seat on the black leather two-seater a few feet away from the fire, and despite the difficult scene moments earlier, he didn't hesitate when he pulled me onto his lap. As for me, I offered no resistance. Instead, I situated myself sideways and wound my arms around his broad shoulders. And in the comfortable silence of what was a temporary truce, we waited for the return of Emmett and Jasper.

Half a minute later, Jasper walked into the room wearing a clean tee shirt and pushing back his wet hair. He also pushed back the matching single chair he picked to sit in and moved it to the other side of the room, far from where Edward and I sat.

"Jasper, you don't have to sit so far away. I promise I'll make my hands behave."

"My lady," he smiled, "I swear to you that I'm not leaving space between us because I fear you may hurt me. I simply didn't think _you_ would want me too close after my behavior in the sunroom, after the way I purposely taunted you as a means to force you to use your gift."

"I don't blame you for any of that, Jasper."

"I do," Edward growled lowly, his chest rumbling against my spine when I elbowed him.

"Jasper, I know you were just trying to help. Please, move closer."

With a still-remorseful nod of agreement, he moved the chair closer. "I _am_ deeply sorry, my lady."

"So am I," I snorted. "But I don't want apologies. I just want to know once and for all how much you guys know about what's going on with me."

Emmett had quietly walked into the room. Now, he stood by the fireplace with his hands buried deep in his pockets. "I suppose we'll get right to it. Bella, there was a girl I met a few months before my accident. Her name was-"

"Rosalie, the beautiful blond I've dreamed about. We first met her when she would come to the abbey with the rest of the villagers after you and Edward hunted. We would give them game and other food to augment their poor diets since they were required to pledge most of their crops to the castle, and hunting was forbidden. You told me once…" I paused, my vision glazing over the crackling flames of the fireplace as the memory took root, "you told me we were simply returning what was already theirs."

When I shifted my gaze back to Emmett, then to Jasper, and finally to Edward, I found all three men observing me through surprised, rounded eyes.

"You remembered that so clearly," Edward murmured.

"I suppose I did," I shrugged. "It just…replayed in my head like a movie."

He chuckled, shaking his head in lingering wonder. "Amazing."

"My lady, now that you have begun the awakening, there will be moments when your memories will flow like a gushing river. But do not be disheartened if there are moments when they are blocked like a dam. Our minds are wondrous instruments which operate with an ebb and flow mimicking nature."

"Thank you for the heads up," I said genuinely. Then I returned my attention to Emmett, who'd gone unfamiliarly silent as I'd come to realize that he was usually the most talkative of the three men.

"Emmett, I didn't know you'd fallen in love with her, not until after you were…killed. A few months later, she returned to the abbey, but this time, she came to collect food for herself and for her-"

My eyes grew wide, and before I could blurt out the memory that flashed through my mind like a lightning bolt, I pressed my lips together. I'd shocked myself with what I was about to say, but more than that, I had no idea if Emmett even _knew_.

"To collect food for herself and for her baby," Emmett finished for me, exhaling heavily through narrowed lips. "For my daughter."

"Emmett, I'm so sorry." An almost overwhelming, one-thousand-year-old sense of guilt suddenly hit me, and I choked on my words. "I didn't know the baby was yours until I first saw her. She had your eyes, _our_ eyes, eyes you'd always told me we'd inherited from our mother. And I _felt_ in my bones that she was related to me. Rosalie never said anything. It was unspoken between us, and I was too cowardly to acknowledge that I knew. Instead, I eased my guilt by periodically delivering food and clothing to both of them, as if that would make up for the fact that the woman you'd loved was left alone in poverty to raise a child who was the true heir to all our lands." I hadn't realized I was crying until Edward's thumb gently slid under each eye, wiping away my tears.

"Do not berate yourself so," he said. "As amazing as it is that you are now remembering so much, so quickly, you are not remembering it…clearly."

"But-"

"Those were very different times from today, and there was nothing you could have done," Edward said stoically. "Emmett was the firstborn son of high nobility at a time when such a thing brought with it great expectations of misplaced duty. Upon Emmett's death, the baron would have never acknowledged Rosalie as Emmett's love or the child as his offspring. What he would have done would have been a thousand times worse," he hissed. There was a sudden fire burning in his gaze, and I felt his chest heaving next to me.

Emmett kneeled in front of us, his eyes level with mine. "Bella, how much do you recall of our father?"

"I don't remember anything about him as much as having a…a dark sense that surrounds thoughts of him."

There was an abrupt tension in the air, an eerie stillness that sent a shiver up my spine. When both Jasper and Emmett snapped their eyes to Edward, I watched as the three seemed to communicate without words.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Tell her of _Rosalie_ ," Edward said, and there seemed to be an implied censure of saying too much more in the way he said it.

"Bella, our father was a cruel man," Emmett said. "As Edward has stated, you must try to remember that we lived in very different times from the present. Common knowledge of Rosalie and of the baby would've endangered both their lives. It's why I never told you of her, not because I didn't trust you but because I didn't want to endanger you by having you keep my secret. It's the same reason why I never told Edward either. By keeping Rosalie and my daughter fed and clothed, by keeping their existence to yourself once you realized who they were, you did all you could've done, and," he sighed, "the opposite of what would've been expected of you."

"What would've been expected of me?"

Cupping my chin in his hand, Edward guided my eyes back to his. "Bella, upon Emmett's death, _you_ , my love, became your father's heir."

It took me a couple of seconds to understand the implications of that pronouncement. When I did, I closed my eyes against the cruel horror of their truth. "Jesus, it was those types of times when the rank of one's birth determined your entire life." Then reopening my eyes, I asked Emmett, "How did you know I helped them?"

"I used to watch you from afar."

"But if you were there," I frowned, "if you were around, why didn't you ever make yourself known?"

"Because I was not _alive_ , Bella," he reminded me, "not anymore. By that time, I was what I am now but a thousand times more dangerous, especially to those I loved."

I shook my head in confusion. "How?"

"Bella, do you recall how I died?" Emmett asked.

"A boar," I whispered. "You were impaled by a boar."

"Yes," he nodded, "and afterward, I awoke in the woods, alone and in excruciating pain. When I remembered what had happened to me, I looked down expecting to see a gaping hole in my stomach, but where the mortal wound should've been, there were only scars. The pain I felt was truly…thirst – a maddening, all-consuming thirst."

"So another vampire found you and changed you?"

"My lady, as was Norman custom of the time," Jasper cut in carefully, "your brother was buried beyond the castle walls, immediately following his impalement. However, knowledge of true death was not what it is today, and we now know that there must have still been a flicker of life remaining in Emmett."

"He was buried _alive_?" I gasped.

At total odds with my reaction, Emmett chuckled carelessly and gave my arm a playful squeeze. "Hey, don't worry about it. If I was buried alive, I don't remember that part."

"Someone, we have never discovered who, dug up Emmett's body and changed him," Edward said much more somberly. "It was purposeful, precise, and once you know what the change requires, you'll realize it was by no means an accident. Whoever bit Emmett wanted more than to feed. Whoever bit Emmett meant for him to become a vampire, meant for him to _return_." He pronounced the last word slowly and emphatically

"But why?"

"When I spoke of a greater puzzle we have not been able to fully piece together, this is part of it. We know that Emmett was turned on purpose, but we do not know by whom or for what purpose, except perhaps…Bella…" Edward hesitated, "I have no idea how aware of it you may have been at the time. If some innate sixth sense warned you or if it was purely your good heart, but by keeping Rosalie and the child a secret, you not only saved them…"

"What, Edward?" I prompted when he paused as if waiting for me to provide the rest. "What are you trying to say?"

"Then you didn't know," he murmured almost to himself. "Bella, by keeping Rosalie and the child a secret, you saved them, and you ensured your own return."

The fire's crackling was the only sound in the room. Edward held my gaze, and I knew he waited for me to ask a question, the obvious next question. But when I finally did pose my next question, it wasn't what he'd expected, and I could feel his disappointment. Yet, he waited, allowing me to do this my way, to circumvent talk of my fated return as Bellaria regardless of the pain it caused him.

"Emmett, what happened when you woke?"

"As soon as I awoke, I went to the cottage where Rosalie lived with her father. I…hungered for her, I craved her; although, I couldn't determine the true nature of my new craving, not yet. All I knew was that I was thirsty, so damned thirsty!" He banged a fist on his thigh. "At dusk, I saw her sitting by the well, turning it and lifting the bucket, and in a fraction of a second, I'd closed all the distance between us. She had her back to me, her neck exposed, and instead of going for the bucket of water, I opened my mouth, and-"

"Oh God, you didn't."

"I stopped myself," he whispered, his eyes glazed and trained somewhere beyond, a thousand years beyond, I imagined. "Somehow, I stopped myself, and by the time she turned around, sensing someone behind her, I'd hidden behind the trees, muffling my howls with my fist."

"Oh, Emmett." I squeezed his shoulder in compassion.

"That was when I knew I could never approach her again." He shrugged, offering me a melancholic smile. "Or you, or Edward, or anyone whom I cared for – not until I learned what I truly was and how to control my true craving – my thirst. It took years to learn to control it, and in that time, I watched from afar as Rosalie's daughter, my daughter became a mother. She had a girl, and then her daughter had a daughter, and her daughter had a daughter, and we lost track of them for a while as the world changed and people migrated, but when we found her descendants…my descendants…"

I was at a crossroads. Every road, every question led to another revelation, each one more unbelievable than the one before it. Yet I couldn't turn back; I could only move forward. If nothing else, I owed it to Edward and to…Bellaria.

"When you found them…" I breathed in disbelief, yet understanding where he was going. "Emmett, you and I are related by more than an ancient brother and sisterhood, aren't we?"

That was the question Edward had been anxious for me to pose. I felt it in the warm breath he released against my cheek, in the way his tense muscles relaxed all around me.

"We are," Emmett confirmed with a grin. "Rosalie named our child Bianca."

"Because she was fair-haired like Rosalie."

"Yes," Emmett breathed. "And Rosalie's mother had been fair-haired as well, and her mother before her. When Bianca had a daughter, she had dark eyes and blond hair, as did the child she later bore, and the next, and the next…"

"And so on and so on," I swallowed, "like my mother, Renee had."

"And then you," Edward said. Slowly, I turned my head and held his unfathomable gaze. "Emmett descends from your mother's bloodline," he continued, "who descended from Rena's bloodline. And now you…the chosen one, the female carrier of the ancient bloodline, descend from his."

OOOOOOOOOO

In the loft, there was a small room which was kept at a chilly and constant forty-five degrees. In this small room, the only piece of furniture was a sixteenth-century writing desk Jasper proudly informed me was gifted to him by an old friend, later affectionately known as _The Bard_. On top of this desk lay a glass display box about the size of an average shoe box. When I shivered, Edward assumed I was cold, and he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me into his side. Meanwhile, Emmett inserted a key into the silver lock at the center of the box and lifted open the top. Then, he stepped back.

"My God," I mouthed as I approached the open box, afraid of even breathing too harshly. "How did you keep it preserved so well and for so long?"

"Our mother kept it stored properly, as I assume did the women before her - in relative darkness, and in cool, dry places without being needlessly perused. The pages are animal vellum, more durable than today's synthetics. It is bound in sturdy, wooden cover boards trimmed by red leather. The birth of Rena's daughter, Sabella, is the first entry. We believe Sabella carried that lone piece of vellum with her when she left Pompeii, and as she got older and most likely converted to Christianity, she collected Gospels and bound them all, creating a Bible. When Sabella had a child, she wrote her name within the Bible. It was constructed to last so that female descendants could keep track of one another. Do you remember it at all, Bella?" Emmett asked at the end of this description. "It became your possession after Mother's death."

"No," I whispered, shaking my head, my gaze intently on the _Lady's Bible_. My fingers ghosted over it, not daring to make actual contact. "No, I don't remember ever having it."

"Would you like to take a closer look at it, Bella?" Edward asked.

"May I?" I asked excitedly.

"It is yours, my love," he replied.

Emmett moved forward and reverently removed the Bible from its glass case, setting it carefully on top of the desk while I vibrated in anticipation. Not only was it a valuable piece of the puzzle that had become my life, but it was a priceless piece of medieval history as well. And despite everything, I couldn't help but be fascinated.

Meanwhile, Edward helped me don a pair of gloves so that the natural oil that coated my fingertips wouldn't damage the delicate vellum pages. As a researcher, and knowing that such an ancient manuscript shouldn't be handled more than necessary, I was glad that my fingers didn't have to wander far to find the first treasure within. The first entry in the book was in Ancient Latin, and in his strong yet smooth voice, Edward read it out loud:

 _Sabella, daughter of Iakobus – in 76_

 _May the gods bless the fruit of my womb and spare them from darkness._

"Them?" I asked.

"For any future descendants as well, we assume," Edward responded.

In my mind's eye, I recalled the vision I had of the child's birth, Rena's joy as she held the child, and her heartache at having to share her with Iakobus, her husband but not the father of her child. I recalled her shrieks of pain afterward…after a newborn Sabella was taken to meet her _father_ …

"Gently, Bella. Gently," Jasper said, breaking me away from my musings and alerting me to the fact that in my daze, I was handling the vellum pages a bit too roughly. I could see how nervous my handling of such a treasure had him, seeing as he was the researcher of the three men.

Forcing my mind back to the here and now, I only allowed one fingertip to brush over the ancient words, trailing downward to entries added on as the years passed. Sometimes, as with Rena's delivery, only the birth of one child was recorded. Sometimes there were multiple births to one woman. Yet in each and every generation, there was a _female_ child.

Then, almost one thousand years later, I found the entries belonging to Lady Resmae of House Swein:

" _Emmot, sonn of Swein – a.d. VI Non. Mai. in the yere of our Lorde, 1062._

 _Bell-aria, doughter of Swein – in the ides of September, 2 William 1."_

I read the lines aloud while my heart pounded in my chest.

Emmett spoke from behind me. "I never entered my daughter, Bianca's birth, because the book belonged to you, Bella – to the daughter of Lady Resmae."

I looked up at Edward, who stood next to me. And when I replied to Emmett, it was with my eyes on Edward.

"Bellaria, daughter of Swein, was the daughter of Lady Resmae, but I, _Bella Cullen_ , descend from your line, Emmett, from a _male_ bloodline."

"Yes, but you're Bellaria reborn," Emmett said. "That's been proven. And you have Rena's blood. It doesn't matter if it's from me or from Lady Resmae."

The passage from _The Verse of Bellaria_ , written by ESOM…by Edward, for his beloved wife so that she may know her ancestry and begin to understand the _gift_ bestowed on her by Rena, and shown to me one day a few weeks ago in the Seattle Library by a woman named _Esme_ , now flashed through my mind.

 _Magic flowed through her hands and into her fingertips. It was the same magic which had flowed through her_ _ **maternal**_ _ancestor's hands one thousand years earlier, and it was this magic which in one thousand years would manifest itself in the hands and fingers of the next chosen_ _ **female**_ _descendant of her blood._

Females. It all descended _from_ females _to_ females.

Edward swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing as his gaze remained silently on me. Slowly looking over my shoulder, my eyes met Jasper's, my fellow academic and lover of true, non-interpretive research. He offered me a faint smile that didn't quite mask the shadow of uncertainty which suddenly crossed his features.

"No," I finally said, returning my gaze to Edward. "No, I don't suppose it matters."

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **Thanks to Love Potions Brewer for her sweet and patient guidance with the scene on how to handle ancient manuscripts. I probably still effed it up, but hey, it's been that kind of week.**

 *****Also, I know there have been lots of twists and turns in this story, so here I'm providing:**

 **A Simple (I hope) Interpretation of all Which Bella Knows About Her Lineage Up to this Point:**

 **Rena lived in Pompeii during Roman times, right before the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. Her father Carolus, married her to Iakobus, the Shifter, against her will. Iakobus in turn only married her because he wanted to combine his bloodline with hers and create an extremely powerful child. Rena thought he was nuts, and then she went on to have an affair with "The Gypsy." She became pregnant from the gypsy, and when the girl, Sabella, was born, Rena had an epiphany and realized that she was, indeed, the carrier of a powerful bloodline, but she kept this fact, as well as the true parentage of her daughter, to herself. A few years later, when she decided to leave Iakobus, her lover disappeared, and on that same night, Iakobus kidnapped her daughter, Sabella, and sent the child on to Rome. Rena, in her heartbreak, cursed Iakobus by telling him that his powers would diminish with each generation, and by promising him that there would come a female** _ **born of females**_ **in her bloodline, who would end him once and for all. Then she caused the eruption of Mount Vesuvius, which buried thousands of people under ash.**

 **So Sabella grew up in Rome. How much she knew of her mother is unclear, but she had her mother's page which at least told of her own birth. From their research, the vamps have gathered that the Bible was passed down through generations, from female to female. It then became Lady Resmae's possession, who gave birth to Bellaria. Once Lady Resmae died, the Bible became Bellaria's possession, but we all know (I hope!) what happened to Bellaria, and then in Ch. 11 Emmett discusses what happened to the bible.**

 **Now, keeping in mind that Rena said the chosen one would come from females, fast forward to the medieval era, where Emmett falls in love with Rose, they make a baby, but he dies in a boar accident before the baby, Bianca, is born. Then, Bellaria is killed by her own father. Again, keep in mind that Lady Resmae is a descendant of Rena. Emmett and Bellaria were both Lady Resmae's children. Emmett had a child. Bellaria did not. So now it seems as if it's Emmett, a** _ **MALE**_ **ancestor who carries on the bloodline from which Bella Cullen is eventually born.**

 **That's all I can say for now. PM me if you'd like, if you still have questions, and I'll try to clear them up as best as I can. I'll add some more to this explanation next chapter if you all find it helpful. :)**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook: Stories by PattyRose**

 **See you guys on Monday.**


	17. Chapter 17 - Growing Closer

**A/N: Thanks so much for your wonderful thoughts. Looks like that little summary last week helped some of you. :)**

Betad **by the wonderful Michelle Renker Rhodes. (Although all remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is all mine.**

* * *

 **Chapter 17 – Growing Closer**

The days following my _awakening_ were spent much the same as my days before; at least to the eyes of someone from the outside watching, and none too closely. Three mornings a week, I taught my lecture hall. Edward attended, of course, to keep appearances as normal as possible, but I knew it was also to be near me and to protect me, which was fine.

If I was being perfectly honest with myself now, and I was trying my damnedest to do just that, I had no problem with any of his reasons for staying close to my side. I craved his proximity as much as he craved mine, and as for his protection, well, the still bewildered woman inside me wasn't too modern to accept that either. What wasn't so easy to do was to avoid his intensely emerald gaze as I presented my lesson plan or to keep my features schooled into a serene yet properly interested mien when he made some wonderfully relevant, though unfairly-advantaged, observation on the subject matter being presented. But most of all, it was hard to pretend that my senses weren't in tune with the slightest sound or movement coming from the dark row in the back of the auditorium, where he usually sat. However, it was imperative that no one who saw us interact on campus grounds suspected anything was amiss; although, why that was still important when so much else was going on was beginning to elude me.

But thankfully, among everything else at which he excelled, Edward was a great actor. When I brought up the subject of the ease with which he carried himself throughout the day one afternoon as he drove us back to his place, Edward gave me a long and enigmatic sideways glance before expelling an equally long breath.

"Bella, as years turn into decades which turn into centuries, and the world around us changes, well-honed acting skills become a necessity." His ruggedly handsome face suddenly took on a distant, far-away, and somewhat exhausted look, as if his mind was replaying his long, long life. "If we want to keep our immortal existence hidden, then we are forced to learn how to perpetually adapt to and then just as easily dispel with changing ways of life – careers, homes, fashion, vernacular – over and over…and over. Pretending you are a part of your surroundings becomes an essential way of life."

It was statements such as these, which he sometimes made with a casualness as if we were discussing a topic as mundane as the weather – or as mundane as a discussion on the weather used to be – that tended to constrict my heart.

A couple of evenings later, I looked up and found Edward standing at the threshold to the living room – his living room, where I was working on the following day's lesson plan. In the past few days, the comfy two-seater situated perpendicular to the large and magnificent living-room fireplace in this comfortable home belonging to three vampires, had become my favorite spot to sit and work. At least, it would be my favorite until the sunroom was inhabitable again. While I worked on research and lesson plans, Edward, Emmett, and Jasper repaired the sunroom from the destruction which occurred there a few days earlier.

How long Edward stood there, I wasn't sure. I'd raised my eyes from my laptop and found him leaning his shoulder against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, studying me with a deep-rooted intensity that made me suspect he'd been there for a while. And while his intense focus no longer made me uncomfortable, it did make it hard for _me_ to focus. Edward was…a beautiful man, as much as the modern-day woman in me hated describing a man that way, but there was really no way around it. I wondered momentarily at how refreshed he looked despite the work that he, Emmett, and Jasper had been undertaking in the sunroom. The sweatpants and tee shirt he wore were barely marked by dust, paint, or spackle, and not a drop of sweat glistened off of him. Then I remembered that the man before me was a _vampire_. Sometimes, it was still hard to reconcile.

"How long have you been standing there watching me?"

With a faint grin, Edward pushed himself off of the wall and strode toward me. He gathered the papers I'd haphazardly scattered on the seat next to me and placed them neatly on the coffee table. Then he took a seat, leaning languidly against the couch before pulling me onto his lap so quickly and fluidly that I didn't even realize I'd been picked up until I was actually on his lap. The action was disconcerting, but after a startled second, I laughed.

Despite all the crazy shit of the past few weeks, since my awakening, since learning this mixed bag of truths that explained my existence, I'd also begun to realize how patient, knowledgeable, and…invaluable the three men guiding me through it all were. One thousand years was still an amount of time I couldn't even fathom waiting for someone's rebirth. Yet with so much now shared between us, with our shared knowledge of the existence of a world most thought to be myth and legend, we were more than just four new friends. With his overprotectiveness mixed in with a habit of teasing, Emmett was beginning to feel like what I imagined a real brother would feel like. And with his vast knowledge on practically any subject I could discuss combined with his willingness – actually, more like his eagerness – to share that knowledge, Jasper felt like a most helpful friend. And Edward…

I lacked the words, even in my own mind, to describe what I felt for Edward. There was an ancient bond, yes, tying us together. But my feelings went beyond that. He made my heart stop and my pulse race every time he walked into a room. And in all honesty, it still frightened and even annoyed me at times that I seemed to have no choice in the matter, as if our bond was written in the stars before I was even born as Bella Cullen. Yet the craving I'd had for him since the very beginning…it was changing…morphing into something deeper although just as potent.

"The sunroom is ready. I asked Emmett and Jasper to go pick up some food for you so that I could watch you in peace," he confessed unapologetically. "You looked so comfortable sitting here in deep thought." Half of his mouth lifted in an impish smile. "Did my attention scare you? Did you think I was going to…" he quirked an eyebrow, " _bite_ you?"

"No," I breathed, shaking my head and winding my arms around his neck. "You just surprised me with both with your intense focus and with your disconcerting speed."

"Hm," he nodded slowly, his gaze piercing. He was studying my reaction as he often did, gauging both my physical and physiological responses as guidance in this unique relationship of ours. And although I knew my heartrate was elevated and my breaths were visibly quickened, I smiled. Then very gingerly, I reached up and stroked his face with the back of my fingers, ghosting over his long scar the way I'd come to learn he enjoyed me doing, the way that tended to set him at ease.

"You should know I did consider biting you." My breath caught in my throat as his eyes fell to my neck before returning to mine, their shade of vibrant green darkening as his throat moved around a thick swallow. "Just for a second," he clarified with a shrug, "but the thought was indeed there. You simply looked too tempting sitting here so innocently, so invitingly, and…" he inhaled deeply, "your scent so deliciously familiar."

"You're _trying_ to shock me."

He didn't deny it. Besides, the darkening of his pupils and the hoarseness of his voice was enough confirmation; never mind that I could feel him engorging under my lap, unmistakable proof of his growing excitement at the thrills my body betrayed, the spiking of my heartrate and the way my blood raced in my veins. There was something intensely intimate about the urges his nature brought out in him.

"But your error, Mr. Masen," I said, keeping my voice as evenly as possible, "is in thinking that I'm all that innocent and that your confession of the temptation of my scent in any way disconcerts me. You see, _I_ know exactly what you are," I murmured, irrationally working to tempt him now, to disconcert him because whenever he compared me to _Bellaria_ in even such a vague manner, my blood boiled. "And guess what?" I smiled seductively, curving my hands around his shoulders to lean into his ear. "You don't scare _me_ ," I whispered, "and you know nothing of my _scent_."

He snorted, angling sideways to hold my gaze, his eyes dark, but when he spoke, I could hear a faint quiver. "Your quickened heartbeat tells a different story, my love, about your lack of trepidation."

"Do you really still think that's fear, Edward?" I raised a hand back to his face, watching my finger circle his soft, slightly parted lips. And when I turned around and straddled him, not as quickly as he'd moved me yet still at a speed that made his breath catch, his reaction emboldened me. "When my heart races around you, when the blood in my veins rushes like wildfire when you're this close to me, do you truly still think it's out of fear?"

"Bella…" he cradled my face in his hands, the slight arrogance in his expression completely gone and in its place, there was an almost desperate plea. "I wish I knew for sure that I do not frighten you. I need to know before I…before we…"

With my eyes locked on his, I gradually and deliberately eased myself further onto his lap. And when I felt the stiff bulge between his legs rub right between mine, Edward and I drew in mutual, protracted breaths. He swallowed hard, his angular jaw taut as he gripped my waist between his strong hands. When I leaned in and slid my lips over his while simultaneously moving my hips, he released a low groan into my mouth.

"Christ's Love, I swear I want to devour you in every possible way." He hissed the words through his teeth, stringing them together in a way which made them sound like one long, ragged oath. My eyes grew wide at the acuteness of his need, and a series of roused up and heady breaths escaped me. When I moved my hips again, he threw back his head and growled.

"You don't scare me, Edward. You stun me sometimes, yes, but you _don't_ frighten me."

With that pronouncement, his head shot back up. The ensuing grin that lifted the corners of his mouth made me gasp, especially when his grip on my waist tightened, and he pulled me in closer, lifting his hips off of the two-seater.

With a grin of my own, I released a long, deep sound of undeniable pleasure. " _Ohh_."

For the next few, glorious minutes, we rocked back and forth against one another, hips pushing and pulling apart and then back together with punctuated gasps and groans. Heavy breaths traversed back and forth between our mouths, his becoming mine and mine…his. We rocked silently, and then we cried out urgently. Our backs arched and then curved forward to join our mouths again and again. I gripped his broad shoulders for leverage, and he gripped my hips go guide me while our tongues danced together. All the while, the maddening throb I'd felt for weeks whenever I was around him concentrated itself deeper and deeper in my core, burning…spreading. Our mutual friction multiplied, and I grew wetter with need. My tongue began to move with his sloppily as I lost the ability to concentrate.

He cradled my face and waited for me to meet his eyes. "God, Bella, _feel_ how I ache for you." He punctuated his words with another thrust of his hips, his mouth skimming its way to my ear, nipping my lobe and trailing lower. "But I must know first…"

I wasn't sure what he meant, and by that point, I don't think I cared.

His moist mouth stopped at my neck, and now that I knew what he was, when I felt his lips part and his tongue dart over my throat, a shiver ran up my spine.

Edward immediately stilled. And once again, knowing him as I did now, I knew why he'd stopped. Once again, he'd misread me, but before he could pull away, I reached up and fisted his hair. Holding his head prone against my neck, I increased the tempo of my movements, rolling my hips furiously.

"Lick me, Edward," I panted desperately. "Lick me." The heat of his stunted breath washed over me as he exhaled long and hard.

"I will not bite you, I promise," he mouthed against my skin, and when I felt his tongue flatten on my neck in one long, interminable lick, I threw back my head and stared up at the ceiling, unable to make one single, solitary sound. My mouth fell open as Edward fell into a rhythm of licks and thrusts, and my vision blurred. Dizzy and truly afraid now, afraid that I might pass out from the overwhelming severity of my arousal, I closed my eyes and anchored myself on his shoulders.

"Just a taste, my love…a small taste," he murmured. I wasn't sure if he meant a small taste for him or a small taste for me, but when his lips puckered on my neck…when I felt something sharp scrape against my throat, I lost control.

Unrelenting heat vibrated through me, coursed like wildfire through my veins and pounded like a fiery drum in my heart. I cradled his head and used it as an anchor as my orgasm tore through me.

"Edward…Edward…" I repeated over and over, bouncing over his erection. "Edward!"

"God," he groaned, rough and low in my ear. "Yes, Bella. Yes, my love. Move over me. Take your pleasure from me." He wrapped his hands around my face and brought my eyes to his. He looked wild. He looked predatory.

He looked like a vampire.

"Bella…beautiful Bella…"

And I fell.

" _Ohh_."

I fell over the edge so fully, so perfectly, so completely, and at once, Edward's mouth covered mine, swallowing my heavy breaths and whimpers as I tried to impale myself on him. He muffled the mind-blowing intensity with smooth strokes of his tongue mingled with mine as I gripped his shoulders, holding on and rocking for dear life, rocking…rocking…and then…collapsing against him.

For a long while, I rested against his chest, sighing unevenly before smiling and kissing the space where his heart should've been beating. I'd had sex before, yet no orgasm had ever shot through me that way or come close to being as fulfilling as the one I'd just experienced while moving on top of Edward's clothed erection – an erection I could still feel.

"I don't know what came over me," I chuckled.

He snorted, his fingers running through my hair in a tender, soothing motion. "The threat of a vampire's bite can be very…arousing. The actual bite is ecstasy itself, but only for a few seconds. Afterward, you wish for death itself."

My eyes widened so much it was almost painful, but I kept my gaze diverted.

"What's going through your mind?" he murmured.

"Not too much. I'm still in a post-orgasmic daze," I deflected. "What's going through yours?"

He brushed his lips over the top of my head. "How perfect you looked while moving against me and while…releasing."

I fleetingly wondered if he thought of her…of me…of _Bellaria_ , and that inexplicable flame of jealousy licked at me.

"How about you?" I asked, lifting my head and ready to meet his eyes.

"How about me?" Edward replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"You're still hard."

He shrugged. "I have been hard for you for a long time. A bit longer will not kill me."

"That doesn't seem fair to you."

He kissed me softly, just a tender peck on my lips before pulling back. "Bella, watching you fall apart right now and knowing I did that? That was the best sexual experience I've had in almost _a thousand years_. Believe me, I'm not complaining."

It was yet another example of those statements, delivered so casually, that broke my heart. And although he may have been okay with the one-sided release, I wasn't. But when I moved off his lap so that I could reach for his erection, Edward saw the direction in which my hand was heading and caught it quickly inside his own. He laced our fingers together and rested our knit hands on top of his lap.

"Why?" I frowned in confusion.

"Not now. Not here when your brother and Jasper are almost back. And not until…"

"Until…?" I prompted.

He drew in a deep breath, and when he grinned, there was a hint of his own trepidation in it. "So tell me what's in tomorrow's lesson plan so that I may be ready for class."

My frown deepened. "Cryptic is more your M.O. while deflection is more in my realm," I smirked. "Speak."

He chuckled and squeezed my hand. "We _will_ discuss it. But later. I promise," he murmured, and just then, the front door opened making it impossible for our conversation to continue. Seeing my disappointment, Edward dropped a quick to my forehead. "Now, tell me; what is in tomorrow's lesson plan?"

I released a long sigh and kissed him quickly with the same tenderness, but my response was half-hearted. "Languages. Tomorrow, we'll be discussing languages of medieval England."

"Ah, languages of medieval England," he echoed, returning my computer to my lap in a gesture meant to signal the return of academic mode when I already longed for our newfound intimacy. "The Germanic tribes which originally settled England brought with them the Old Angles and Old Saxon languages of their tribes, which in time developed into Anglo-Saxon, or Old English. With the arrival of the Normans, the Norse and French influence became Middle English."

"At least let me pretend to teach the class tomorrow, okay?"

He laughed so openly, so freely, and so fully. It was the most beautiful sound in the world. And when my eyes moved to the wide window on the other side of the room, the rare Washington sun suddenly peeked through the clouds.

Yes. What I felt for Edward was becoming so much more.

OOOOOOOOOO

After hungrily devouring the dinner Emmett and Jasper returned with, we got down to the real business at hand.

In between everything: lecture hall, office hours, returning hasty texts and phone calls to my dad, to Kate, and to a few others who wondered what was going on in my life and why it appeared as if I'd recently dropped off the face of the earth, and in between my growing closeness to these three men – mainly with Edward, there was something infinitely more important going on.

And it wasn't going very well.

In the afternoons, after running daily errands before darkness fell, Edward picked me up from my apartment and escorted me to his place where we spent countless hours trying to figure out this _thing_ which they called a gift, but which we all knew was truly a curse. With the summer solstice approaching quickly, preparing for whatever the hell was coming was the true priority in my life…in Edward's life, as well as in Emmett and Jasper's lives. Because regardless of _everything_ else, I knew this much to be true: some fucking monster out there wanted to mate with me to make some mini monster who would possess the powers of both our cursed bloodlines. And if we didn't succeed at stopping him…well, then, none of the rest would mean a thing.

With the sunroom repaired, we congregated in there. And I tried, I really did, but my fingers refused to work their…magic.

In fact, they hadn't worked their magic since the day of the _Sunroom Incident_ , which is what I called the occurrence when I'd lost control in this very room as if I'd simply gotten a stain on one of the room's pieces of furniture or spilled coffee on one of the rugs. In all actuality, I'd almost annihilated an immortal creature. Since that day, I couldn't even feel the tingling in my fingertips, much less radiate some ancient power from them.

"Alright, Bella, let's try this again," Jasper said patiently a couple of hours into our session, where we'd had as little progress as we'd had over the past week. He stood with me before the glass wall which looked out on the beautiful recreation of the medieval garden which was mine when I was Bellaria. "As I said, there is a sword hidden in the garden. Now reach up, point your fingers, and focus, Bella. Find the sword, and lift it."

With a much less patient breath than Jasper's, I lifted my trembling hand and extended my fingers, trying with all my might to focus.

"Think of the sword, Bella," Jasper murmured. "It is a heavy object. _Feel_ its weight. Draw a picture of it in your mind. The hilt has a dragon carved into it, the blade is long and sharp. Now find it."

I strained both my fingers and my mind in an effort to picture the damned sword and find it.

"Focus, Bella," Jasper repeated half a minute later.

Behind me, Edward and Emmett sat silently on the other side of the room. When a couple of minutes transpired with nothing to show for it, I dropped my hand with a frustrated huff.

"Maybe if you just tell her where the sword is?" Emmett suggested.

"No!" I snapped. "No, don't tell me. Let's try it again."

I tried again and again…and again. But for days, it had been a useless endeavor. Instead, my frustration merely manifested itself in the darkening skies and in the distant rumbling of thunder.

"Well," I snorted when it became obvious it would be another failed session, "maybe on the night of the solstice I could melt the shifters with some nifty rain?" The sarcasm in my tone, as well as the bitterness in my expression, disappeared as soon as I felt Edward behind me, his warm breath on my neck and his hands soothingly on my shoulders.

"Perhaps after some rest," he suggested quietly.

"Maybe it only works when she fears for her life…or for yours," Emmett pointed out.

Beside me, Jasper shook his head. "No. No, that cannot be right. According to the curse, the chosen one's powers will surpass Rena's powers. And Rena could manifest them at will."

I looked at Jasper, inwardly noting that he'd correctly termed it a _curse_ rather than a gift…and that he hadn't specifically named _me_ as the chosen one.

"I don't know what I'm doing wrong," I whispered.

Edward wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling my spine against his firm chest. "I know you're discouraged, my love, but we _will_ get there. I think the incident with Jasper last week has scared you and built a wall around your abilities."

Instinctively, Jasper began another round of apologies. "My lady, again, I'm so sorry I-"

"Stop, Jasper," I cut him off before he could continue. "Don't apologize because if you hadn't pushed me that day, I wouldn't even have begun to understand what I can do. Emmett, I know you're trying to be helpful, but your suggestions are pissing me off. And Edward, stop blaming Jasper." My failure was making me short of temperament. "It has nothing to do with him. It's me. I'm just not even sure I…"

"You're not sure you're what?" Edward breathed.

"I'm not even sure I want these powers," I hissed, fisting my hands at my sides. "I mean, Jesus, controlling the weather around me is bad enough but also having some freaky fire shoot out of my fingers and controlling how my own body ages? And the shit of it is that I _can't_ even control any of it! Ugh!" I fisted my hair angrily, but as soon as I felt Edward stiffen, as soon as his hands fell to his sides and I sensed the tension in him, I regretted speaking thoughtlessly, speaking my mind so freely without considering what it meant to _him_ , yet again.

Edward turned away from me, and it was Jasper who spoke up with a smile meant to set me at ease.

"My lady, as we have said, these powers _are_ under your control in so many ways. You do not _have_ to use your gifts; however, you must learn to control them, because whether you like it or not, you _do_ have them. You must learn about them so that you can set them aside if that is what you wish, and so that you will not use them without even realizing that you're doing so – if that is what you wish." He took a step closer. "But for the solstice, Bella, for that you _must_ be ready. We will protect you as much as we can, but-"

"Edward, maybe you should tell her of her other choice," Emmett said.

"She has no other choice - not now." He spoke with his back still turned to me. "Perhaps after the solstice."

"But it's for the solstice that she has to be ready!" Emmett insisted. "And if that means changing her-"

"No!" Edward yelled, making me gasp. When he turned back to me, his nostrils were flaring, and his eyes were dark and visibly furious.

"She will learn to use her powers," he said much more calmly, yet his eyes continued to betray his emotion. "Jacob is preparing, and so will she, and so will we all."

"What do you mean 'Jacob is preparing'?" I asked.

With a shared look, all three men moved to the table in the center of the room where a laptop lay open. Jasper took a seat in front of it and began typing away, looking up at me when he was done.

"Come, my lady." He stood and offered me his seat. Emmett and Edward flanked him.

With a deep breath, I took the offered seat and trained my eyes on the screen, reading the headline at the top out loud:

"High-Speed Train Derailment in Japan leaves Forty-Four People Dead." Looking back up, I swept my gaze from one man to the next. "What does this have to do with…"

"Continue reading, my lady," Jasper instructed, leaning forward to click on another tab.

"Cargo Ship Disappears Off the Coast of Australia. Crew of Eight-Seven Feared Drowned."

My heart began pounding furiously. Jasper clicked on the next tab.

"Sixty-Three Member Expedition into the Amazon All Disappear Without a Trace."

Again, Jasper leaned in and clicked.

"One-hundred-and-thirty-one People Die in An Apparent-"

With a shudder, I shook my head and jerked my eyes away from the screen without finishing. "Are you saying…are you saying that Jacob is behind all of these?"

Jasper nodded. "We are pretty sure that he is. We believe that he is creating an army, gathering his strength in numbers since he knows anything less will mean annihilation for him. Throughout the ages, we have always had the advantage of strength, but vampires have never had the advantage of numbers. Our method of creation does not lend itself to easy population growth. This will be…" Jasper hesitated. "My lady, this will be a true confrontation."

All my breath left me in a rush.

"Bella, I won't let him touch you," Edward said, sliding his hand around the nape of my neck, all the furious indignation of moments earlier apparently dissipated. "We _will_ stop him."

"You can't promise her that, Edward!" Emmett growled. "We'll try our best, but my sister must be ready! You must give her the choice!"

"There is only one choice available to her…to all of us at the moment," Edward responded stoically. "Any other choices must wait until after the solstice."

With a furious glare toward Edward, Emmett turned around and stalked out of the room.

The rest of us were quiet for a few moments, lost in our own thoughts. I waited for Edward to meet my gaze again. "Tell me the truth. I saw how easily you defeated them in the alley on that night. Why will they be so dangerous on the solstice?"

"Bella, those were merely minions," Edward said. "Jacob hides because he wants to ensure a victory when he finally emerges, but do not be fooled. He is an ancient being, even more ancient than we are, and on the solstice, all his powers will be on full display. He has never confronted us in the past, has always hidden because he needed us to find you, and now that you have been discovered, he will come full force for all of us, and his minions will be much stronger than they were the other night."

"He's going all out," Jasper added, "and putting all his eggs into this one basket, you might say."

"Because he has no plans to lose," I breathed. "Mother fucker. But how about vampires? Don't you guys have friends who can help?"

"Yes, we do, but vampires have never had the numbers which werewolves and shifters have had throughout the ages, for a couple of reasons. We do not, as a whole, change people for the hell of it," Edward sneered. "A new vampire is like a child which must be taught and raised. It's a commitment, and the process itself is…a bit more complicated than a shifter's process, requiring more than a basic bite or scratch." He held my gaze, and I thought back to a few hours earlier when we'd been so consumed with one another on that two-seater.

"So we have fewer numbers, but we've always been stronger. Therefore, it's never mattered," Jasper said.

"Until now," I breathed.

Edward nodded. "We have friends who will help, but the shifters will be at their strongest on the solstice, and they will be great in numbers. And Jacob…Jakob…Iakobus will be at the strongest he's been since ancient times."

"A clash of the Immortals." My head spun. I dropped my eyes to the floor, trying desperately to keep the bile down, to keep from hyperventilating. Then I stood up quickly. "I'll just…I'll go find Emmett."

OOOOOOOOOO

When I emerged from the shower in the plush robe kept in the house for me, I was more than a bit startled to find Edward in the room. I'd spent the past couple of nights here, in the bedroom with no windows and no excess sound. For some reason, I slept much better than I did in my own apartment, But Edward had never shared the room with me.

Now, he sat on the edge of the large, wrought-iron bed, his head dipped low and his elbows resting on his knees while his hands cradled his head. I knew he heard me approaching, but he didn't move, not even a twitch. When I sat next to him, so close our thighs touched, he still made no move. When I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and rested my head in the crook of his neck, he inhaled deeply, releasing it with a long sigh and angling himself sideways so that he could slide his arms around my waist. I rested my head on his chest.

"I don't descend from the female line."

"It doesn't matter. You descend from Rena's bloodline."

"You said the curse was to be taken literally."

"Not all of it."

"Of course. I forgot about the _open to interpretation_ parts." I grinned wryly, but Edward's finger quickly found its way under my jaw, and he forced my eyes up to his.

"Do you really think I wouldn't know?" he hissed. "Do you think I wouldn't be able to take one look at you and know-"

"Why, because I look like her?"

"No, you stubborn…" he trailed off, shaking his head, lips curled in frustration. "It has nothing to do with the fact that you are physically the same as you were back then." He laid his hand over my heart. "I feel it is you in here, in your heart, in your soul, in your blood, and in the way it _all_ calls to me, whether you like it or not." He snorted. "Because as much as you _hate_ being reminded," he scowled, "you are _not_ as different from then as you seem to believe yourself. You have always been true to yourself, to your wants and needs. As Bellaria, it was me you needed, me whom you adored, and yes, you would have done _anything_ for me regardless of the consequences. As Bella, that no longer holds true, yet you are true to _that_ , regardless of anything else. It is as it should be."

"Edward-"

"Perhaps someday, you will adore me the way you once did, and that is what you will be true to with all your being, regardless of the consequences."

"Edward…" I choked, "of course I've thought about it. I'm not stupid. I realize a real future with you would require a change from me, but to decide now…in the midst of all this…with this hanging over our heads-"

"Bella, don't you understand what I'm trying to tell you?" He slid his hands around the nape of my neck. "I don't want that for you."

"Yet all you do is compare me to her."

"How can I compare you to yourself?" he asked with a raised brow.

"You tell me she…I…whatever the hell, adored you, and you fling it like an accusation, like I can never measure up."

"I didn't mean it that way," he said contritely, looking down between us.

"Yes, you did," I contradicted. "You know you did, and that's what kills me. You still want _her_ when it's _me_ here with you."

"You are one and the _same_ , Bella."

I dropped my gaze again, shaking my head from side to side. "Tell me how one becomes a vampire, Edward."

"Not now. Not because you think I want-"

"Just tell me."

When he didn't answer, I raised my eyes and found him taking me in with a questioning look before all expression seemed to leach out of his eyes. Abruptly, he held my gaze with an almost disconcerting impassivity.

"Well, it begins as it does in most of the folktales. That much is correct." His tone took a clinical, detached note. "I would _bite_ you," he emphasized clearly.

"And then?"

Perhaps, I should've been frightened by the return of the predatory look in his eyes. We were, after all, alone in his bedroom – in his soundproof and windowless bedroom – with the doors closed.

"If it begins with a bite…where exactly would that bite be, Edward?"

The corners of his mouth twitched, morphing into a cold smile.

"Where would that bite be? Anywhere really, but usually on your neck, yes." He lifted his hand, extending it toward me, yet for a few anxious seconds, it remained suspended in mid-air. "May I touch? And _only_ touch, I promise."

"I trust you," I whispered.

In my periphery, I saw his hand inch forward. When the tips of his fingers brushed my neck, I released a series of uneven sighs at the tingling warmth that suddenly spread from my neck and into every extremity below. And although my eyes were on his, Edward's gaze was intently on the movement of his hand, on the way his fingers stroked the spot where I felt my blood pulse even more wildly than usual. With one finger, he gently nudged my head, and I complied, tilting sideways for him, exposing my neck.

Edward drew in a long, protracted breath, releasing it through narrowed lips. "Here," he breathed. "This is the most accessible of the main arteries in a human body."

"So you'd be looking for main arteries?"

He didn't answer immediately. When his gaze abruptly swept back to me, he appeared to blink himself out of a trance. "They are preferable, yes."

I lifted an eyebrow. "You know, there are _other_ main arteries."

"There are," he nodded. "And it is sometimes done from these other less visible yet just as…" he swallowed, " _juicy_ spots, for lack of a better phrase - places where the blood flows just as thick."

My racing heart pounded so erratically that I had no doubt Edward could clearly hear the uneven pumping of that particularly blood-filled muscle. The blood in my veins quickened, and adrenaline thrummed into every extremity.

I was skiing off of the highest peak, diving into the deepest abyss by toying with a vampire's self-control, and what I would find at the end of this thrill-ride, I had no idea.

I swallowed thickly myself. "Places such as?"

The chuckle he gave me came from deep and low in his throat. "Would you like me to point them out, Miss Academia?"

"Yes, please."

As before, I didn't even see him coming. What I felt was my back make contact with the firm yet cushiony mattress so suddenly that I gasped in surprise. All of a sudden, Edward hovered above me. His eyes held me locked within their intense gaze. For one long, immeasurable moment, that's all he did - hold my gaze, reach into my soul the way only he could.

Then his fingers returned to my neck, his touch featherlike as he began a gentle trail to my collarbone.

"Now, we've discussed the artery here," he said, skimming downward and smiling teasingly as if he was now the teacher and I the student. "And this…" he continued, loosening my robe enough so that a slit formed at the valley separating my bare breasts. With his eyes on mine, Edward's finger came to a halt at the space between my breast and my underarm. "This is the Axilla Artery, which conveys blood to your upper torso. I've been told it's a good spot." The pads of his fingers circled around and around, tickling me, but I suppressed my nervous giggles.

"Have you?" I asked instead.

He made an affirmative sound, eyes never leaving mine. "Should I keep going?"

At the bob of my head, his fingers resumed their lesson, grazing my breast as they skimmed downward, raising all the fine hairs on my body. My abdominal muscles contracted when he touched my stomach and stopped, pressing his palm and spreading his fingers.

"The descending aorta leads to the abdominal aorta, the largest artery in the abdominal cavity, rich with blood where it branches out into the common iliac arteries in the lower limbs."

"So another good place?" I barely managed to breathe.

"Mhm," he hummed. Slowly, he dropped his head and pressed his mouth to mine, sucking softly on my lips. "Yes, another good place," he said thickly as I tangled my hand in his hair and held him there before parting his lips with my tongue. We shared languid kisses, no less hungry or urgent for their unhurried pace.

"Can kissing change me, Edward?"

"No." He shook his head, pulling back slightly, the impassivity in his gaze completely gone. All the while, his hand caressed my midsection. "No, my love. Kissing can do nothing more than what kisses do in humans."

I fisted his hair and pulled his mouth back to mine, making him groan, sharing our breaths while making those sounds of pleasure and awe I'd never truly thought existed – until him. He sucked tenderly on my lips, top and then bottom, alternating before trailing open-mouthed to my face and my jaw before skimming down to my neck. I arched upward, searching, needing. He stroked my bare stomach with the tips of his fingers, opening my robe more but keeping his hand on my stomach, keeping his bottom half off of me.

"Edward…"

"My love," he breathed. "Bella…Bellahhh..."

I thrilled at the breathy sound of my name on his lips. And I feared he wouldn't stop at that sound, that the last part of her name…my name would escape him.

"Edward." Cradling his face, I held him still. When he slowly lifted his eyes to mine, they were black again, as black as they'd been on the two-seater.

"What's next?" I whispered. "After you bite, what's next?"

His opal eyes seared through me. "After we bite, you cannot move, and for a few seconds, you experience the most intense pleasure which quickly turns into the most intense pain you will ever experience. It is an agony which will last for days. You will beg for death before the pain morphs into a thirst only sated by drinking from the one who bit you. That will complete the transformation, and the thirst…" he swallowed, "the thirst will never be that horrendous, but neither will it ever truly be sated. For the rest of your existence, you must periodically feed on blood for the thirst to recede."

An eternity passed before I could speak again through a throat that felt as arid as the desert.

"Is that it?"

He snorted, shaking his head. "Yes," he finally said. "Those are the basics, my recklessly curious love."

"Are those all the places you bite for the transformation?"

"There is one more place, but first…"

"First what?"

He didn't answer right away.

"Bella, why are you asking me all this? Even if you asked me to, I would not turn you – not now."

"Edward, what do you see when you look at me?"

"I see _you_ , Bella. I see the woman before me; don't ever doubt that."

"I need to believe that's true," I breathed shakily. "I need to believe you see me and not a woman from a thousand years ago, and I need you to see something as well."

"What?" His eyes narrowed.

"You need to see that when I look at you, when I'm with you, I don't see the strong, brave knight from a thousand years ago…or my husband."

He dropped his gaze, but I lifted his chin, forcing him to look at me.

"To me, those times…that entire life is something from dreams, nebulous and almost unreal. But when I look at you, Edward, I see a beautiful, strong, and brave man from today, from the present. I see a man who is patient yet determined, fierce yet caring, highly intelligent yet unpretentious about it. I see a man who focuses all of those things on _me_. I don't love you despite what you are now, but _because_ of who you are now, which is the only version of you I, Bella Cullen, have ever truly known. I want you. I need you. And yes, I do _love_ you, as insane as that is in the short period we've known one another. But I love you as Bella Cullen loves, not as Bellaria loved. If you could learn to live with that, then maybe we can figure out the rest as we go along."

The entire time I spoke, his gaze went from pained to incredulous to amazingly hopeful.

"You love me? You truly love me, Bella?"

"Yes," I chuckled. "I love you, Edward, but don't compare my love to Bellaria's love. Let me figure out how to love you _my_ way."

He expelled a long gust of air as if he'd been holding his breath for minutes…for ages, for a millennium. And if I thought him beautiful before, his features suddenly infused with such an overwhelming sense of relief…of a radiant joy which made him absolutely breathtaking.

Then, he grinned. "As I was saying, there is one more…delicious spot with perhaps the best blood flow of all."

"Show me," I grinned in return.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

" _Yes_."

* * *

 **A/N: No, it's NOT a fade-to-black. It's a "The-chapter-is-already-way-too-long-to-rush-this-part-but-don't-worry-you'll-get-the-rest-later-this-week." ;)**

 **Thoughts?**

 **Chapter Song Rec: I Don't Wanna Live Forever** _ **by ZAYN and Taylor Swift**_ **(I mean, between the title, the sexy rhythm, and the FSoG/Twilight connection, how could I resist?)**

 _ **I don't wanna live forever, 'cause I know I'll be living in pain  
And I don't wanna fit wherever  
I just wanna keep calling your name until you come back home…**_

 **See you later this week...:)**


	18. Chapter 18 - Get Thee Clothed

**A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts.**

 **Betad** **by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes (though all remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is all mine.**

 **Chapter 18 – Get** **Thee Clothed**

It's strange. In the middle of the most trying days of your life, you sometimes manage to discover a little corner of heaven you would've never even imagined existed. It's the kind of bliss that comes over you when you least expect it, like when a ray of sun peeks through the heavy clouds right in between a clap of thunder, and suddenly, the entire sky lights up in a prismatic glow. Then like a heavenly paint brush, that ray strokes every nook and cranny with its blinding spectrum, with its warmth kindling and caressing every inch of your soul. By the time the dark clouds do eventually roll back in, as clouds tend to do, that ray has left such an imprint on you that hours later, you still feel its heat on your skin. You still see its colors dancing behind your eyelids.

The evening in Edward's bedroom when I confessed both to him and to myself that want turned to need and craving to nothing less than pure, unadulterated love was...well, it was the happiest night of my life. Cocooned within the beauty of that moment, I left behind all thoughts of curses versus gifts, shifters versus vampires, literal versus interpretive, and even Bellaria versus Bella. I left behind absolutely everything except the exact shade in Edward's eyes as he gazed down at me with his own unsuppressed feelings on full display. I ignored everything around us except the sultry tone of his voice as he whispered words of worship and swore that it was me, Bella Cullen, regardless of my previous incarnation, whom he now adored.

And in between all our confessions of love, I imagined that it was moments like these Edward must've held on to throughout his lifetime. When faced with years, decades, and centuries of loneliness, he must've clung to those times of utter bliss he shared with _Bellaria_. When he was angry, when he doubted, when he feared, he must've pictured her…pictured _me_ in a moment such as this and found the strength to endure. For that much, if for nothing else, I was thankful to that previous version of me.

Those were the few thoughts running through my mind as Edward reached between us and carefully pushed open the top part of my robe, as the cool air of the room mixed with his warm breath and brushed over my bare skin, and as little bumps of gooseflesh rose all over my torso at his attentions. And when, with his eyes fully on mine, Edward curved a hand around my breast, I released a shuddering breath of pure, undeniable relief.

Cradling his cheek, I smiled up at him. "I love you, Edward."

He grinned in response, slowly dipping his mouth to mine, his thumb gently brushing my nipple. "I adore you, Bella." His kisses were languidly tender, tasting my lips one at a time, then both together before pulling back to sweep his gaze over me. When he spoke, his voice was thick and husky. "You are _so_ beautiful."

I thrilled at the intensity in his gaze as he continued to take me in before slipping his free hand through my hair and pulling my mouth back to his. When he pushed his warm, moist tongue inside, an entire lifetime could've transpired while we kissed and kissed, while he worshiped my mouth and our breaths mingled, and I wouldn't have cared. His hands kneaded and explored. My hands tangled in the soft hair at the nape of his neck. I skimmed them downward to his broad shoulders, gripping and trailing further down his arms. When I fisted his shirt and began pushing it over his torso, he reached behind his neck and quickly discarded it over his head.

"Let me see you," I murmured, pushing him away. And when my eyes swept over him, a sharp gasp escaped me.

It was the first time – at least, the first time as _Bella_ – that I'd seen Edward's chest bare, and perhaps it was senseless for me to be shocked. But the truth was that I'd never stopped to give his past the consideration I should've, the consideration it deserved. Just as all I wanted him to see was the Bella Cullen of now, all _I_ wanted to see was the Edward Masen of now. Yet, almost one thousand years earlier, Edward Masen was Sir Edward, son of the mason, a sworn knight during a period of history which was nothing like the fairy tales tried to depict. It was bloody, and it was brutal.

Edward's arms and chest were tightly toned and lined with bands of corded muscle. From his pecs to his pelvis, his torso was cut into eight perfect abdominal sections, all leading to a sculpted V which started at one hip before disappearing below his sweatpants and then prominently reemerging at his other hip…and all of it traversed with raised, thick lines of pink, scarred tissue.

"Oh, Edward."

A crease of confusion appeared between his eyebrows as he looked down at himself, but when he met my eyes again, the crease was gone, and in its place was a wary expression.

"You see these as well." At my slow nod, his guarded gaze became one of resigned passivity. Lifting myself to my knees, I watched his cautious eyes only momentarily flash away from mine when the top of my robe fell around my shoulders, exposing me down to my navel. When my hand reached out to touch him, he pulled away.

"Please don't pull away from me," I pleaded as my fingers hovered in midair between us.

"I thought perhaps they repulsed you."

"No," I exhaled in a rush as the memories of Bellaria touching and caressing his scarred flesh replayed in my mind. "I knew they were there. I've seen them before – so many times before, but I'd forgotten. I'd forgotten you were once mortal and could be hurt. You _were_ hurt. Oh, Edward," I choked, gently brushing my fingers over his marred skin.

At once, Edward covered my hand with his and drew me into his strong arms. My soft chest pressed against his much harder one, bare skin against bare skin, and I circled my arms around his neck. Holding him tightly, I rested my head against his silent heart.

"Shh," he murmured into my hair. "Do not make yourself uneasy over scars that have not mattered for centuries."

"Do they still hurt?"

Wrapping his hands around my face, he lifted my eyes to his and offered me a tender, reassuring smile. "No, Bella. Like the scar on my face and the one around my wrist, they are part of a past that no longer exists."

For one long moment, kneeling together on the mattress, we were connected by more than our touches and locked gazes, but also by an acceptance that we were both here in the present. When I eased my head back down, I brushed my lips over the warm spot where a heart no longer beat yet still felt and gave so much. Edward exhaled long and hard.

"Bella…"

My hands curved around his lean hips as I pressed my mouth to both his smooth skin and rough scars, enjoying the way my name fell from his mouth in harsh breaths. He pushed his hands through my hair and fisted it between his fingers. "Bella…I've waited so long for your touch…so so long."

As much as I thrilled at the longing in his voice, at the same time, my heart clenched painfully with the knowledge that he'd waited _so_ long. More than anything, I wanted to give him the pleasure he longed for, the pleasure he deserved and which he'd denied himself while waiting for _me_. Parting my lips, I darted my tongue softly over his stomach. His sharp hiss echoed in my ears as I trailed down further to the downy hair below his navel. At that point, Edward gently yet firmly tugged my hair, raising me to him.

The grin on his beautiful face sent the blood in my veins racing.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing at all," he chuckled, "but I believe, Miss Cullen, that we were in the middle of a lesson, were we not?"

"Were we?" I straightened on my knees, wrapping my arms around his neck again while his fingers lightly traced my spine. "I'll be honest. I've totally forgotten what we were discussing," I smiled.

He threw back his head and chuckled heartily, a sight so joy-inducing that it made me suck in a deep breath – an action which had the added benefit of pushing my breasts tighter against his chest.

"Luckily for us both, vampires have long memories."

Gently, he eased me back, laying me on the bed as he hovered above me. He supported his weight on one hand while using the other to untie my robe, this time pushing it wide open. My chest heaved with anticipation as his two middle fingers tentatively rested on the valley between my breasts. When they began gliding down, his mouth followed, his warm breath tickling every spot he touched.

"Now, Miss Cullen, as I said a few minutes earlier, there is one more area where the blood flows freely, where a bite would be…ideal."

"Is there?" I played along, running my fingers through his hair. "Why don't you show me where it is?"

Round, obsidian eyes traced along the path his fingers skimmed, beginning at the underside of my breasts and continuing to my ribs and then to my stomach. He paused, and then so swiftly that I didn't even see it coming, he reached for my leg and hitched it over his shoulder.

I sucked in a sharp breath, exhaling it on his name. "Edward…"

For one long moment, his gaze wandered down my body, eyes growing heavy-lidded while the rest of him remained as still as a statue. Then inhaling deeply, he narrowed his focus onto my inner right thigh.

"The femoral artery is the main arterial supply to the lower extremities."

The reverberation of his voice seeped through his hand and washed over my sensitive skin, almost painful in the acute sensations it engendered. My body writhed in his unyielding hold. "Edward…" The pads of his fingers brushed back and forth along my inner thigh, right at the spot where my blood pulsed and pounded out a desperate beat that called to him.

"A bite here…" again, he swallowed, "I have been told that a bite here is the most glorious sensation in existence for both vampire and human."

"Oh God, Edward…"

"You see, the blood is warm and rich here," he explained hoarsely, "infused with flavors and scents…and with an essence you cannot find on any other spot. I have dreamed for centuries of tasting you here, of drinking you in long and hard. But do not worry," he grinned. "Despite the frequency and intensity of the dreams, I have practiced self-control. You _should_ be safe."

"Jesus, Edward…" My hips undulated and rocked off the mattress, seeking…searching…heart pounding wildly. At that moment, I would've given him anything, including my mortality, in exchange for his touch.

"Christ's Love, you look beautiful moving that way."

When he hitched my leg higher on his shoulder and licked a trail from my ankle to my shin, over my knee and then along my inner thigh, I was ready to explode. And when he pressed his mouth against my femoral artery and began sucking my skin between his lips, I panted out a strangled whimper.

"Yes, yes."

"No," he chuckled. "No. I will _not_ do that. But…I _will_ do this." And with one long lap of his tongue from my artery to my apex, his mouth found its way between my folds.

My hips bucked off the mattress as I threw back my head, my mouth falling open but no sound escaping. With his hands gripping my hips to hold me in place, Edward circled his tongue, and my heart attempted to leap right out of my chest. But as I lay there spread wide open, every muscle in my body went lax, all sound disappeared, my vision blurred, and all that existed was Edward's warm mouth…exactly…where…I…wanted it.

Instinctively, my hands tangled in his hair, and I pushed his face in deeper, biting my lip as I vacillated between an inability to verbalize my pleasure and an overwhelming need to scream my fucking head off.

"You can scream, my love," he said against my tender lips as if reading my mind. "Remember that you can make any sound you want in here, and _no one_ will hear you."

And as if challenging me to do just that, Edward pushed his finger deep into me, right below where his tongue worked my body into a frenzy, and I lost all control. A loud stream of moans and curses and whimpers escaped into the confined acoustics of the room.

"Edward! Yes, yes, Edward!"

Before I could even begin to come down from that high, Edward's mouth returned to mine, muffling the rest of my moans. And still locked in the throes of my orgasm-induced craze, I reached desperately with both hands and pushed down his sweats over his lean hips, my eyes growing wide as his erection bobbed out stiffly. He pushed off his pants the rest of the way with the same agitation.

"Oh God," I whimpered in a strangled breath as he knelt in front of me in all his naked glory.

"Tell me you want me _and_ love me," he commanded in a rough whisper, "for I cannot wait any longer."

"I want you. I love you. _Please_."

As he hovered over me and pushed my legs open, his eyes were as dark as an endless midnight. And with those black eyes and his rough, ragged breaths, with his angular jaw squared tight, and with his nostrils flaring wildly, in that moment, there was no denying that Edward Masen was a dangerous creature.

And it thrilled me all the more.

"Bella, because of what I am, I cannot get you with child."

I nodded quickly, too caught up in the moment to consider the implications of that one way or the other.

"Edward, I don't know what you've been expecting, what you've dreamed of all these centuries. I don't want to disappoint whatever expectations-"

Despite his fevered craze, he dipped his mouth to mine softly, and when he spoke, his voice was infused with patient tenderness. "Bella, you could never disappointment me. You have already surpassed every fantasy I've had throughout the centuries."

"Then don't wait any longer, and make love to me."

With one hand cradling my face, Edward eased his tip right to my entrance and pushed himself in without pause. My back shot off the mattress as the most intense pleasure I'd ever known rushed between my legs and spread like wildfire from where I stretched around him.

"Oh God!"

Edward released a guttural groan from deep within his chest. "Lord above, _thank you._ "

My spine arched further off the bed as Edward sat up on his knees, curved his hands around my hips and spread his fingers wide. And with the leverage he needed, he began a rhythmic push and pull, a grinding dance both completely familiar and totally new all at once. I closed my eyes and fisted the sheets as he took me to heights I'd never experienced.

"Look at me, my love," he breathed. "Open your eyes and let me gaze into them as I love you once more. Hold on to me, and allow _me_ to be your anchor."

Reopening my eyes, I gripped his shoulders and held his gaze as he rolled his hips tightly to mine, easing out languidly before pushing back into me with measured, powerful strokes.

"Oh God, Edward…"

I gripped his hips within my thighs when he pulled himself out just enough to make me whimper with need before thrusting forward with a grunt. When he leaned forward again, he claimed my mouth with an almost bruising urgency, parting my lips with his tongue and claiming every single one of my senses.

"Edward…" I moaned when his mouth moved down to my neck, sucking hard and trailing lower. He took a nipple between his lips, his tongue circling around the stiff peak before opening wide around more of my breast.

"Edward…please...I can't…I can't, Edward…too good...can't think…"

He chuckled and moved to my other breast, his hips never stopping their relentless assault. "Christ's Love, Bella, how do you think _I_ feel?"

Despite the lust consuming me, I chuckled too. Then our mouths met again, parting only when in search of a cheek, a jaw, a chest, a breast – over and over for an immeasurable moment. When I wrapped my legs around his hips and dropped my hands to his backside to push him in deeper, he reared up on his forearms and thrust in so hard that the coil building inside of me snapped with almost brutal force. I screamed through my orgasm again.

"Oh God, Edward! Yes! Edward! Edward! YES!"

"Yes, my love. Yes. Take your pleasure from me," Edward spurred me on, grinding and pushing himself into my very soul, his hips never pausing as I rode out my orgasm. And just as I floated off on what I thought was the last wave of bliss, he reached up and gripped the iron bedframe. The next thrust he gave me lifted my back off the bed, and the coil that had begun to slacken now clenched once more.

"Oh God!" I cried out. "I'm coming again!"

"Yesss," he hissed triumphantly through his teeth, releasing one hand from the bed frame to pull me against his chest as he stroked and stroked and stroked and…

And I came with an exhausted whimper, gripping his shoulders for support as blinding heat coursed through me once more. This time, when my orgasm receded, Edward stopped moving. His mouth brushed mine gently, but I could feel how hard he was inside me.

"Am I doing something wrong?" I asked breathlessly.

"Please tell me you're joking," he replied, kissing my forehead, my nose, and then both eyes. "You are perfect, Bella. Perfect," he breathed. "Perfect."

"Then why haven't you come?"

He sighed, his hips rocking softly now as if caressing me from the inside. "I suppose I should've explained something. As a vampire…I can keep it up for days."

"Wait, you mean you can keep... _it_ up for days?"

His ensuing chuckle was somewhat sheepish. "Well, I did not mean it that way, but yes. I can keep _it_ up for days."

"Non-stop?"

"Non-stop."

"Oh, heck no. You need to come _today_."

He laughed out loud and threw back his head, an action which made his hips rock a little more, and I was shocked to find that despite my exhaustion, that tingling ache began building inside me yet again.

"Do not worry too much," he smirked as his laughter receded. "Though you are temptation incarnate, I don't plan to keep you as my sex slave for days – at least, not without periods of rest in between." And with that assurance, he gripped my hips and moved with a languidness that simply intensified every slow thrust. Instinctively, I began moving with him, sighing in pleasure. "I feel your core tightening around me once again, so let me watch you release one more time. Let me feel you take your pleasure from me just once more this evening, and let me hear you cry out my name into the quiet of the room, and then, I will release with you."

Every sentence he spoke was punctuated with a deep stroke so that by the time he was done talking, I was already coming. As promised, Edward lifted himself onto his palms, thrust hard and deep, and released a roar into the room that made the furniture vibrate. And when he came, the rush of heat that surged between my legs made me scream yet again out of an ecstasy so all-encompassing I feared I might pass out. Eventually, his hips slowed…slowed…slowed, and with an irrepressible shudder, Edward fell on top of me briefly before wrapping me up in his arms and turning us sideways. He kissed me, and then he pressed his mouth to the crook of my neck, breathing hard, lips alternating between brushing against my skin and moving around inaudible words.

"What are you saying?" I murmured.

"Bella…my love…I am giving thanks for you…for _us_."

OOOOOOOOOO

Afterward, we lay in bed for hours just talking and kissing, my head resting on his chest while his fingers ran down the length of my hair.

"You didn't bite me," I pointed out.

He snorted, his lips brushing back and forth along the top of my head. "I was not going to bite you, despite the temptation you presented with your willingness to play along with my wicked game."

I chuckled at the smirk I heard in his voice. "Thank you," I murmured, "for thinking for the both of us through the haze of lust."

He was quiet for a few minutes. "For centuries, I have dreamed of biting you," he finally whispered, his tone undeniably wistful. "But no, I will not do so now, not until after the solstice, and not until you decide _outside_ of the heat of passion – one way or the other."

It was my turn to silently mull over my thoughts. "Well, I do see now why you've never created a vampire."

His fingers stroked the nape of my neck almost absently. "It is a very sensual act, yes. Whether it be between male and female or male and male or female and female, the sensations engendered are…powerful."

I raised my head and met his eyes. "How do you know so much about it if you've never actually done it?"

"In the past, your brother has created vampires, as has Jasper, and they have shared their experiences. These vampires are the ones who will come help us when the solstice arrives."

"What about Emmett's love for Rosalie?" I wondered.

He cradled my jaw in his hand, locking me in his gaze. "Bella, sharing the intimacy of vampire creation with someone does not mean that Emmett did not love Rosalie."

"But you've told me he's had vampire women as well."

"He has." He sighed. "My love, just as every man and woman are different, so are all vampires. We each have limits, and those boundaries are different for everyone."

I dropped my head back to his chest as I considered all he'd said.

"I assume…I _know_ …" I swallowed, "Bellaria was a virgin when you married."

"Yes."

I stroked my fingers back and forth along his chest, tracing his scars. "This must be so different for you."

Gently yet urgently, Edward reached around my hips so he could flip me over and hold me above him, his hardened gaze demanding an explanation.

"Obviously, this version of me was no virgin."

"I am aware," he replied, ignoring my weak attempt at an ill-timed tongue twister, "but what is the point you're attempting to make?"

"Don't tell me that it wasn't a disappointment in at least some way."

His jaw tightened as he shook his head. "Bella, did any part of me appear the least bit _disappointed_?" he asked incredulously. "I won't lie and say I thrill at the knowledge that you've lain with other men. But I recognize the fact that, as you've pointed out more than once, we're no longer in the middle ages."

"So you accept my imperfections."

"Why must you insist on being so...?" He groaned in frustration. "No, it is not an imperfection. You and I, we were different people then, living in a world much different from the one in which we now live."

"But you've lived in both worlds, in both times, yet you've never slept with anyone else since her."

"Since _you_ ," he rushed to correct me. "I know you dislike the reminder of your previous self, but it is since _you_ , Bella."

"Since me," I acknowledged with a deep breath. "Look, I know I'm being difficult, and I apologize. But sometimes this is still so hard to wrap my mind around."

"I understand that," he smiled tenderly, easing me down so that I rested completely on top of him, where I felt the erection I wasn't sure had ever completely dissipated press against my stomach. "Bella, I've lived in both worlds, yes, but I've lived continuously. Even in those wild, first years after my creation, there was never a time when I did not know who I was or who I loved, who I _belonged_ to. We are products of our time, my love. I am a product of that age in which I became a man. I gave my heart and soul to you in those days, and yours they have remained. _I_ could not lay with another woman despite how much time passed nor how much the world changed. And that speaks no judgment toward your brother, for as I said, everyone has his own personal boundaries and limits, and one thousand years _is_ a long time. Yet, I know in my soul that had _you_ known who you were, had you known you were already mine, you would not have slept with anyone else."

"I wouldn't have," I confirmed, sitting on top of him, my heart racing as I positioned myself so that he could quell that low, deep ache and fill the emptiness I'd never truly known existed before him.

"I know." He sat up suddenly and cradled my jaw in one hand, supporting me with his other one pressed to my spine. "And it is why I could not make love to you until I knew you loved me, truly loved me. It was not because of morals or modes which change with the times, but because when I was alive, when you were…my wife, I made love to you in so many different manners: I on top of you, and you riding me as you are preparing to do now. I pressed my chest to your spine and my hips to your backside. I lifted you on all fours and entered you from behind. I pushed you against walls and carried you as I filled you. I took you out in the open, hidden from view only by the tall blades of wheat. I took you hard, I took you gently, and I took you everywhere and every way in between, but always…always, I took you with love." He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. When he finally spoke again, his words came in a heated rush. "And when you received me inside you, you sheathed me with your love, and I could not settle for less. Do you understand that?"

"I do," I breathed. "I really do. And I do love you."

"I know."

I wrapped my hand around him, guiding him to where I throbbed with need. He was harder than I ever imagined it possible for a mortal man to be because he wasn't a mortal man. And I wouldn't say that aloud. He understood me. He forgave what perhaps, didn't actually need forgiving. Yet I wouldn't compare him to others even if the comparison was to say that I'd never imagined lovemaking to be what I'd found with him…with an immortal vampire.

"I love you," I exhaled instead as I took him deep inside of me, so deep I could feel him stroking my soul.

"I know," he said, gripping my hips and helping me move up and down along his length as I breathlessly repeated that mantra over and over.

"I love you, Edward. I love you…"

OOOOOOOOOO

At some point, I lost my fight with sleep and ended up lost to a land of blissful nothing. When I opened my eyes sometime in the middle of the night, it was pitch dark in the room of no windows. The only way I knew the time was because of a clock on the bedside table. Then I felt his warm breath at the nape of my neck before I felt my naked body cocooned by his equally warm and unclothed form.

"I'd always heard vampires were cold-skinned," I murmured into the quiet of the room, yawning and snuggling deeper into his hold. "But my personal experience is the total opposite."

"Have you had much experience with vampires then?" Edward chuckled. "Yes, we are cold-skinned. I am only warm to you for those same reasons that you are the only human who can see my scars."

"I remember…I remember, as Bellaria, the warmth of your touch flowing through me like a beautiful song, and I think it's those memories which make you feel warm to me."

"That makes sense. Do you know what Bellaria means?" he asked after a pause.

"It's derived from Ancient Gaelic. Belle for beautiful, and Aria for-"

"Song," he finished. I could feel his smile on my neck.

"Beautiful song, like the verse you wrote. That's really lovely. It's funny how my mom decided at the last minute to name me Bella."

"It's because you are beautiful, regardless of the time period, my beautiful Bella. That part never changes." His lips brushed across the nape of my neck, making my bottom push in closer to him.

"Beautiful Bella. That's what my dad used to call me when I was little - before things changed between us."

I felt him stiffen. "Was he ever cruel to you, Bella?"

"No," I whispered. "He was...a great father when I was younger, who just grew cold and distant as I got older. It got so bad it felt as if we were perfect strangers. It's one of the reasons I was so anxious to leave Forks. And then he was upset about my move," I shrugged. "It was as if I could never please him."

He was quiet for another moment, kissing my neck. "Go back to sleep, my love. You need your rest."

"There's plenty of time for that. But if you'd like, I could leave the room and let you get some sleep," I offered, turning my head sideways to meet his eyes over my shoulder. "I know you can't sleep with me in here."

"I don't need to sleep right now," he murmured in my ear. "I did so for a couple of hours last week."

Despite everything, I chuckled at the reminder of how different we were in some ways.

"Well, since I'm already awake…" I reached behind me, searching for what was becoming a delicious addiction. Sure enough, when I found it, he was stiff and ready.

He released a shuddering breath, burying his face into the crook of my neck as his hands moved up to my bare breasts, and I pumped him from base to tip.

"Are you alright? Are you not sore, my love?" he asked, his voice shaky and eager despite his questions.

"I'm very sore," I replied honestly. "My bones feel like jelly, and I don't think I could move right now if my life depended on it. You'll have to do most of the work."

He chuckled huskily. "I shall make the sacrifice." Then he took my hips and pushed himself inside. This time, his thrusts were slow and measured, pulling himself out almost completely before easing back in inch by painstaking inch. I moaned quietly, moving unhurriedly, the pleasure no less intense despite its perfect languidness. When he lifted my leg and carefully bent it at an angle to open me wider, I came in shuddering, breathless whimpers. And when he pushed himself inside of me to the hilt and grunted hard against my neck, I felt the warm rush I was now beginning to realize would always prolong my orgasm.

"Sleep," he said afterward, kissing my temple and adjusting the blankets around me. "I must go hunting now."

"Now?" I asked, already beginning to drift. "Aren't you tired _at all_?"

"Vigorous lovemaking does different things to vampires than it does to humans. I am keyed up and ravenous," he whispered into my ear, "and I must go hunt before I forget myself and bite you after all."

Perhaps, had I been more awake, the threat would have frightened me. As it was, I barely registered the words as I felt him rise from the bed.

"Emmett and Jasper are in the apartment if you should need them, but sleep, Bellaria, and I shall be back in a few hours…"

OOOOOOO

The silver moon was rounded and aglow in the night sky as it hovered above the majestic, snow-covered peak of the tallest mountain in the Cascades region. Dad had a cabin deep in the woods, where we came for a week or so year after year. As I took in the beautiful, peaceful sight from the large window in the cabin, I felt my father's hand on my shoulder.

"What are you doing, Bella?"

"I'm admiring the view."

"No. No, that's not what I mean, and you know it." Turning around, I met his gaze over my shoulder, unable to keep from frowning in disappointment at the creases of wariness always marring his forehead, at the blue eyes that always took me in so cautiously.

"I love him, Dad."

"Don't do this, Bella. This isn't what he'd want you to do."

"I don't care what he…" I stopped and looked around, realizing that we were in the cabin, which we hadn't visited together since I was about sixteen. "Wait. Dad, what are we doing here? And…how do you know?"

His frown deepened, but he didn't respond.

"Dad, how do you know?"

The loud and sudden rumbling which erupted outside snapped my attention back to the window, and the scene now before me made my blood run cold. The once ivory peak of the majestic mountain was now bathed in crimson as balls of fire shot out like lightning from its flaming core.

"Don't do this, Bella," my father repeated. "Control yourself, and _don't do this!"_

"I'm not doing it," I breathed, unable to turn away from the blazing inferno exploding in the distance.

"Yes, you are."

"I'm not doing it!"

"Yes, you are!"

I awoke with a gasp, and sat up straight in the darkness of Edward's bedroom, fisting my hair and waiting for the dream to abate and for my heartrate to return to normal. Speaking of my father with Edward must've brought him into my subconscious. When I finally managed to calm down, I stood and walked to the bathroom to relieve myself. Thankfully, by the time I was done washing my hands, the dream had begun to fade, thoughts of my problems with my dad again relegated to the deepest recesses of my mind. Turning on the lights, I paused to take in my reflection in the large mirror above the sink.

The woman staring back at me was flushed, her lips swollen, her hair wild and disheveled by more than sleep, and she wore the remainder of an irrepressible smile as she recalled the events of the previous evening. I ran my hands over my bare arms and torso, feeling sore absolutely everywhere in between. As I looked closer, I found more than one dark blemish where Edward had apparently held me just a little too hard. But I didn't mind. He was just as new at this vampire-and-human lovemaking as I was, and we'd' figure out together how to balance it all out. Continuing the inspection, I looked lower and found a bright purple bruise between my legs where he'd sucked eagerly on the sensitive spot just above my femoral artery.

Grinning widely, I sighed and looked back up at my happy and sated reflection.

Only…the reflection now staring back at me from the mirror wasn't grinning. Her face was flushed, yes, her hair disheveled, but unlike my naked form, she was dressed in a grand, flowing tunic made of red velvet and black silk. Her lips were twisted in hatred, and while my chest heaved in terror, her chest heaved with furious breaths.

"Get thee clothed, and quit this room," she hissed.

I stared at myself.

"GET THEE CLOTHED, AND QUIT THIS ROOM!"

I awoke with a gasp – still naked yet now drenched in my own sweat. For a few, terrifying seconds, I couldn't even move a muscle, much less sit up.

"Fuck," I finally breathed, fisting my hair. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I spat as I stared at the ceiling and waited for my heart rate to moderate itself once again. "Bellaria…" I murmured in the darkness, "I suppose you hate this version of you as much as I hate your version of me, yet we need one another if we're going to get through this," I chuckled bitterly, "so calm the fuck down."

After that, the quiet of the room felt eerie and…uncomfortably claustrophobic. Suddenly, more than anything, I simply needed to do just as Bellaria suggested: I needed to quit the fucking room, at least, for a while. The rumbling in my stomach provided a good enough excuse. Wrapping my robe around myself, I stepped out.

As soon as I opened the door of the soundproof bedroom, the urgent whispers and hisses assaulted my senses, drawing me toward them. One voice rose up above the others with a cry of pain, forcing my legs forward as they pounded down the staircase, heart pounding in rhythm with every step I took. The hisses grew in furious vehemence, and the pained voice grew in familiarity. When I rounded the corner into the foyer, I stopped short at the sight before me.

Edward was crouched in the middle of the room, Jasper and Emmett flanking his sides as he dug his knee into a man's spine and held his arms bent behind his back. One arm was twisted behind him at an unnatural angle that protested audibly when Edward pulled it back further. When he hissed something in the man's ear, the man cried out in pain.

"Edward!"

Three sets of vampire eyes met mine, two sets as black as an abyss and one set as crimson red as a pool of blood.

"Bella, stop right there," Edward ordered when I moved forward.

"Get off of my father!" I demanded, ignoring his order.

Edward's red eyes evenly took in my stance, yet he made no move to release my dad. Instead, both Emmett and Jasper moved in front of me, blocking me from advancing any closer.

"Get out of my way, and get off of him!" I shrieked, my hands opening and closing into fists at my sides. Edward's eyes flashed to them for a split second before meeting my gaze again, nostrils flaring.

"Listen to me carefully," he growled lowly. " _He_ showed up here, and if what I suspect is correct-"

"I came looking for my daughter, whom I haven't heard from in days, and I find her with a pack of monsters!"

"If he is anything like the previous incarnation of Carolus…like Karles…" Edward continued.

"Who the hell are Carolus and Karles?" my father spat. "Bella, run! Run, Bella!"

"Dad, no!"

"This time, you are not taking her from me," Edward seethed, bending my father's arm back further.

"FUUUCK! You goddamn monster! You'll have her only over my dead body!"

In cold horror, I watched a slow grin begin at one corner of Edward's mouth and then spread widely. "Over your dead body? Yes, that is exactly how it shall be." And in slow motion, I watched Edward bend his mouth to my father's neck.

"NOOO!"

All at once, Emmett and Jasper slid across opposite sides of the room, and I threw myself over my father, in between him and Edward. Placing my hand on Edward's chest, I held him back, even though we both knew it was a useless gesture.

"Bella, move away," Edward growled.

"Edward, stop! He's my father!"

"Bella, run! They're monsters! Run!" My father's urgency was again cut off by his howls of pain.

"For the love of God, Edward, STOP!" I pleaded, fisting my hair and trying with all my might to resist the instinct threatening to take over.

"I will never again allow you to harm her, you piece of filth," Edward gritted through clenched teeth.

"I would never harm her!"

"Edward, he's my father!"

"Who told you she was here?"

"Edward, he's my FATHER!"

"Your father is an evil man!" Edward bellowed.

"No, he isn't!"

"Bella! It was your father who killed-"

"I'm not her father!"

The sudden silence in the room was staggering. Slowly, my dad lifted his head and met my eyes.

"Dad?"

Then right before me, Doctor Carlisle Cullen broke into sobs, into heart-wrenching, heartbreaking and bewildering sobs.

"Bella, sweetheart, I love you with all my heart, baby, I always have, but...I'm _not_ your father."

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **So I figure we've got about seven or so chapters left - give or take.**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

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 **See you guys again next week!**


	19. Ch 19: The Arrogant, First-Year Resident

**A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts. Here's an early update!**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes. (All remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is all mine.**

* * *

 **Chapter 19 – The Arrogant First-Year Resident**

 **Carlisle Cullen**

In 1992, I was a first-year resident at Forks General - young, ambitious…and perhaps a bit arrogant, as some doctors tend to be. Having graduated the previous year at the top of my class, I was convinced that it was my destiny to save the world, one patient at a time.

Therefore, I was more than a bit frustrated by the limitations placed on resident doctors due to our _inexperience_. As I said, I'd graduated at the top of my class, and I was cocky enough to believe that, unlike some other new doctors, _inexperience_ wasn't a term which applied to me. _I_ was ready to take on the world.

Unfortunately – although, I later came to see it as fortunate, halfway through my first year of residency, I was placed on rotation in the Emergency Room. Now as you know, in Forks, we're not known for life-and-death type emergencies. However, I suppose I'm old enough now to admit - and to feel ashamed at admitting - that I longed for a life-and-death emergency to walk, to drag itself, or even to be carried through those glass double doors leading into the white-walled Emergency Department. Instead, day after day, all we got were loggers with frozen toes, the police chief's daughter, who seemed to slip on ice every damn week or housewives slicing their fingers while making dinner. I was bored as hell.

One typically slow afternoon about eight months into my residency, I was on-call with Doctor Bowman as my attending.

Do you remember him, Bella? No. No, I didn't think you would. He retired and moved to Florida when you were about six. No matter. He isn't crucial to this story.

As I said, it was a typically slow spring afternoon. The hospital hallways were empty. All but one room was vacant, and that room was occupied by a trucker who'd been driving through town and lost control of his truck due to the heavy rain. Doctor Bowman and I only took a couple of minutes to administer the four stitches needed on his forearm. Afterward, the good doctor, already in his late seventies at that point, disappeared into one of the many unoccupied rooms for his late afternoon nap. The two nurses on duty were at their station talking and gossiping among themselves. And I took to wandering the hallways, whistling to myself while lacing my anxious, unoccupied hands behind my back.

That's when you and your mom walked in.

I know I never told you, but you were a child. Listen to me. Bella Cullen, stop talking, and listen to me! By the time your mom and I married, I thought none of it mattered. Why? Because I loved you like my own! Because of that, and because of all that happened afterward, I made the decision not to- yes, yes, you're right. I'm leaping ahead.

So back to that long-ago day. You and your mom walked in, and…she was so beautiful, Bella, yet she looked lost and frightened. She carried you in her arms as she rushed down the empty hall.

"Hello? Hello, I need a doctor!" she called.

I approached her quickly. "May I help you? I'm Doctor Cullen."

Despite the fact that Forks was a small town, she only looked vaguely familiar to me. Your mom – only twenty years old – was almost ten years younger than me that day she showed up at the hospital. What's more, she kept to herself, and I…well, I was too busy with my residency for much of a social life.

She swallowed nervously and looked at you while you whimpered quietly in her arms. Both of you cradled your left elbow, and I could tell by the way it rested that your arm was the problem. She cooed soft, soothing words to you before drawing in a deep breath and meeting my eyes.

"My daughter fell off the couch, and I think she may have…" she swallowed again, "I'm afraid she may have broken her arm."

You whimpered once more, pouting your little lips and looking so forlorn that my heart ached for you, even though you weren't the first little girl I'd attended in the emergency room.

"Come with me," I said softly, not wanting to further frighten either of you. I placed my hand lightly on your mom's arm and led you both toward one of the empty rooms. As we walked, I dipped my head to your eye level and smiled.

"It's okay, sweetheart. It'll be alright. I'll just get Doctor Bowman, and we'll take some pictures of your arm, and if it does look a little funny," I made a face to accompany the word, trying to get you to smile and hopefully forget your pain for a little while, "we'll wrap it nicely until it gets better."

You did smile, even though I wasn't sure how much of what I said you'd actually understood due to how young you were. But your mom suddenly stopped walking.

"Doctor, Bella is very shy." I frowned at this declaration and looked at you again. Your smile only widened. With a bemused snort, I swept my gaze back to your mom, startled when I caught her bottom lip quivering. Her next request was delivered in a whisper. "Would it be possible for only you to take care of her?"

I shook my head. "I'm sorry. You see, I'm a resident doctor, and despite the fact that I'm completely capable of attending her myself, hospital regulations here forbid residents from treating patients without an attending doctor present. But please don't worry," I added reassuringly. "Once we sign you in with the nurses at the triage station, I'll go get Doctor Bowman, and we'll take care of-"

"No!" she breathed in a rush, her eyes panicked. "No, I can't have too many…look, I'll pay you cash, no matter how much it costs. If I don't have enough on me, then I'll give you all my contact information so that-"

I'll admit that by this point, I had a few crazy thoughts running through my head – theories about you being a kidnapped child up on a poster somewhere or of your mother being the physically abusive type who'd broken her own daughter's arm and was now afraid of Children's Services stepping in. Of course, none of my theories came anywhere close to what the truth turned out to be. But as I've already admitted, I was an arrogant, know-it-all doctor.

Yet, as I scrutinized you both more carefully, I picked up on the physical resemblances between the both of you. Along with the kidnapping theory, my physical abuse theory went out the window as well due to how you clung to your mom with so much love and trust and how she held you as if you were the most important thing in her world. Of course, there were other possibilities I could've considered, but the fact of the matter remained that we were standing in a hospital, and you needed immediate attention.

"I'm sorry, Mrs….?"

"Just Renee, please."

"Renee, hospital protocol calls for a resident-"

"Doctor Cullen, _please_ ," she begged outright. "I'll do anything. Please just don't get anyone else involved."

At that point, your whimpers grew louder, but not too loud. You've always been a brave one, yet you were obviously in discomfort, and it was beginning to make my chest ache. There was also the fear in your mother's eyes to consider, a fear beyond a broken arm. So I did what I knew went against hospital protocol – what I knew would get me in deep trouble with the administration should it ever be discovered.

"Alright, Renee," I conceded in a nervous whisper while looking around to make sure there were no witnesses to what I was about to do and say. "Let's take her into this room first for a quick x-ray, and then…we'll see where we go from there."

"Thank you, Doctor," your mom exhaled quietly.

I recall what a good girl you were throughout the x-rays. As I lay the heavy vest on you, I asked you your age, and you held up two fingers on the hand that wasn't attached to the injured arm. I tried to turn the entire thing into a game to distract you, and you actually smiled and even giggled in between whimpers. Your mom waited anxiously behind the protective glass door, and when we were done, I picked you up carefully and set you back in her waiting arms. At her gentle prodding, you thanked me in the sweetest voice I'd ever heard. I can still hear it in my mind.

After quickly reading the x-rays, I took you and your mom to the room furthest from the nurses' station, and I gave you a stethoscope and some tongue depressors to keep you occupied. Then I quickly went to check on Doctor Bowman, whom I confirmed in relief was still snoring soundly. After stopping at the nurses' station and making sure that they were still quite entertained with their gossip and TV shows, I anxiously returned to you and your mom. At that point, I got to work on taking care of your fracture.

Yes, Bella, I'm sure it was fractured. Yes, yes, I'm aware I was merely a resident, but I knew my x-rays then just as well as I know them now. Bella! Your arm _was_ fractured! That is indisputable! Now please, allow me to continue.

All right. Now, you've never been much of the squirming or crying sort of child. What's more, by the time I began setting your arm, you'd grown quite comfortable with me. You smiled and even giggled at my corny jokes, which looking back, most likely went right over your head at your tender age. I suppose it was the faces I made which made you laugh. Either way, I was amazed by what a well-behaved child you were for someone so young.

And your mom…she smiled whenever you smiled, and when she smiled…I don't know if you remember, Bella, but whenever your mom smiled, she lit up the entire room.

When I was done, I tapped your nose and made sure I complimented you for what a good patient you'd been. Then clearing my throat, I turned to your mom.

"She'll need to wear that for at least four weeks. At that point, you'll have to bring her back to have the arm checked again. If it's healed, then we can remove the cast. If not, she may have to wear it a bit longer. Do you have any questions so far?"

Your mom just stared at me. After a few, long moments, she opened her mouth as if to say something, but then quickly shut it.

"Thank you," she breathed before swiftly picking you up in her arms and rushing out of the room.

"Wait!" I hissed. "Wait!" With a couple of long strides, I caught up to her in the hallway.

"Would you like to tell me what's going on now?"

"No." Her stride never faltered.

"I can still call Child Services."

That made her stop. She looked up at me through tight, defensive eyes. Meanwhile, you smiled and reached out with your good arm to play with my name tag.

I leaned in closer and whispered through clenched teeth. "Look, I know you didn't hurt your daughter, but something is obviously going on, and that child needs to come back and have the fracture re-examined to make sure it heals properly. She also needs to have the cast removed by a _doctor_ ," I said carefully. "If you attempt to remove it yourself, you run the risk of hurting her, and I know you don't want that."

She drew in a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. I saw a deep debate in her agonized expression as if she were fighting an inner demon. She reopened her eyes and cast them longingly toward the double doors just a few feet away, where outside, the rain pelted the concrete parking lot. When I reached out and rested my palm on her forearm, she jumped and her wary eyes snapped back to me.

"I'll give you my cell phone number, and you can call me directly when you're ready to bring her back. I'll take care of her quietly - just as I did today," I added. "You _can_ trust me."

She swallowed thickly, and there was so much anxiety in her tense gaze that it made me want to pull you both into my arms and keep you there permanently. When she gave me a quick nod, I disguised my deep breath of relief by pulling out a pen and paper.

After writing down my phone number and a few more instructions, we stood by the glass double doors. That was the first time I showed you that magic trick you've always enjoyed, the one with the quarter behind the ear. Remember? Honestly, I was simply trying to keep you both from leaving. But you threw back your small head and laughed and laughed. When I moved my eyes to the glass doors, I was surprised to see that the rain had stopped suddenly, and a few rays of late sunshine peeked through the clouds.

Your mom sighed and smiled softly. "That's our cue to leave."

And unable to think of anything else to say, I waved goodbye to you both as you walked out of the doors.

Less than forty-eight hours later, your mom called me.

"Doctor Cullen, I think Bella is ready to have the cast removed."

"That's impossible," I chuckled. I was out by the hospital food truck, grabbing a quick lunch, and I could hear you through the phone. You sounded as if you were playing quite happily. "I'm very happy to hear that she seems to be feeling better, Renee, but that cast will have to stay on for at least four weeks."

"Doctor…" she breathed, "may I _please_ bring her to the hospital this evening?"

I made sure I swallowed the piece of hot dog in my mouth before replying. It wouldn't do to choke on my own anxiousness before I could see you both again. And although I knew your cast wasn't ready to come off, if agreeing to remove a cast which I'd simply have to immediately replace would get your mom to the hospital, then I saw it as a small price to pay.

"Very well."

For the love of God, Bella, it was fractured. Listen to me! I kept those x-rays, and throughout the years, I've re-examined them a hundred times. Your arm. was. fractured! Then less than forty-eight hours later…it wasn't.

Alright, Bella, answer me this: when was the last time you were injured? No, why are you looking at _him_? Look at me, and answer me. When was the last time you were sick? When have you ever had the flu or a stomach virus or strep throat? When you were little and we had the occasional hospital get-togethers, the other doctors would joke and ask me what magic concoction I fed you to keep you so healthy. They'd laugh and say that if all kids were as hale and hearty as you, we physicians would be out of business. I'd laugh along with them. I joked back and said you descended from good, tough stock. But all the while, in my head I prayed they never looked too closely. Yes, sometimes you'd scrape or bruise yourself running around, but did you ever stop to notice how quickly those scrapes and bruises healed? Of course, you didn't because you were a kid. But I silently tracked all of them, every swift-healing bump, bruise, and scrape.

Bella, why are you examining your arms? What are you looking for? Have you been hurt? Let me- stay back, you filthy animal! She's my daughter, and I have every right to examine her! Fine, Bella, fine, but then tell him to stay away while I- okay, okay, I'll just continue.

After that, I became your mom's confidante. How could I not after the secrets we shared? In between shifts, I spent every spare moment with you both. We ate together, we went to the movies together. We took you to the playground, and your mom would point out to me the clouds that hovered when another child pushed you or the flowers that bloomed when you played happily. In time, I began to notice it all on my own. And in time, you didn't only run into her arms when you were tired, but you also ran into mine. It wasn't long before I considered you my child – before I loved you both.

Your mom and I married quickly, only six months after that fateful hospital visit. The two of you were alone in the world, and I was desperate to keep you both safe. You see, a few weeks after we met, we sat in her small apartment just outside of town, and she told me the whole story. She said she owed me a chance to walk away before I was in too deep. But the thing is, I'd fallen in deeply the moment she stepped into that hospital with you.

Yes, yes, Bella. Of course, I'll tell you what she told me. Where do you think I'm going with all this? Besides, I don't seem to have much of a choice, do I, not with these... _men_ standing over me. Perhaps once you know the whole story, you'll see how these men with whom you seem to be surrounding yourself…are really monsters.

Bella, your mom grew up in a middle-class neighborhood of upstate New York. During her senior year of high school, she and a friend snuck away, as teenagers tend to do, to a frat party in Syracuse. As is also common in many teens, she had a bit too much to drink. In hindsight, the man she met that night probably added something extra to her cup. She and this man slept together, and afterward, she never saw him again until a few short months later. You see, her parents – your grandparents – were in a car accident, the accident which took their lives. At the funeral, your…father unexpectedly showed up. While there, he asked your mother a question.

Yes. Yes, you're right. He wanted to know if Bella's mother was pregnant. How did you guess that? You won't answer me, yet I'm expected to sit here and- Alright, Bella. Alright. For you, I'll continue.

Some instinct made your mother lie to him. She laughed away his inquiry and told him that no, she wasn't pregnant. The very next day, she fled New York State without a word to anyone. She took a roundabout route to a small, relatively unknown town at the opposite end of the country: Forks, Washington. Leaving everything behind, she rented a small apartment in town, changed her name, and took a job as a librarian. And as her pregnancy advanced, she began having…strange dreams.

What sort of dreams? Well, I've told you that she planned to name you, Marie, after her mother, right? And I've told you that it was a dream which made her change her mind. But what I never told you, Bella, was that your mother told me that she saw _you_ in her dreams. She saw a grown version of you, and in her dream, she spoke to you, and you told her your name was _Bella._

Yes, Bella. Yes, I'm sure. What's more, she said that when you were born, she took one look at you, and she knew without a doubt that you were the young woman she'd seen in her dreams. And she knew…

What else did she know? She knew that you were special, and no, not in the way _all_ parents believe their offspring to be special, but truly _unique_.

Of course, I doubted at first, Bella. I loved you both, but I doubted. I never doubted that you were a wonderful child, and I never doubted my love and devotion to you and your mom, but I believed myself a rational man, a faithful student of science and research. Sometimes…sometimes, as I lay in bed in the dark, exhausted from a long day at the hospital, I'd look at your mom asleep next to me and wonder if perhaps her parents' sudden death had affected her or disturbed her mind. I wondered if there was some sort of mental illness in her background. Mind you, I didn't care if there was; I still loved her with all my heart. But perhaps, I thought to myself, there was some medical explanation still undiscovered for how quickly your fracture healed. Perhaps, you simply had an extremely healthy immune system, which was why you were never sick. Possibly, it was just a coincidence that the clouds came when you were sad, and the flowers bloomed when you were happy. I spent every spare moment I had researching and looking for a logical explanation.

Anyway, only eighteen months into our marriage, your mom got sick. At that point, the clouds _always_ hovered, no matter how much your mother and I tried to cheer you and shield you from how quickly the disease was spreading throughout her body. And as she grew sicker, your mom's dreams grew more vivid. They became…visions.

Another question from the men who won't answer _me_. Now you want to know why I call them visions?

Because she used to wake in the middle of the night screaming in Latin, and then she'd tell me that she'd just been in the Ancient Roman Empire. Other times, she would visit a dark castle and see a man she said looked just like the man who fathered you, Bella, except he was obese and dressed in medieval gear. More than once, Bella, she saw _you_ in that same castle. She saw you with an older boy whom she believed was your brother. Then she saw you as a young woman…a young woman in love with a knight. She saw you in another time that she couldn't quite understand or describe clearly, and you were holding a little boy's hand. Lastly, on her deathbed, she saw…

Give me a second, Bella. Just give me a second here. I've never spoken these things aloud. And _you_ …stop looking at me that way! She is _my_ daughter, no matter who donated the sperm! She's my daughter, and my wife warned me that someone or some _thing_ would come for her, and I'll protect my daughter with my last breath!

Alright, Bella! Alright! Perhaps after I tell you the rest, you'll understand why I don't trust him, why I don't trust any of these men surrounding you! Look, I can't say _exactly_ what she saw! All I know is that her last words to me were, "He's going to come for her, and he's going to find her. Protect her, Carlisle. Protect her from all the monsters coming for her. Take her to the cabin in the woods. When the time comes, take them _all_ to the cabin in the woods."

Bella, do you really _not_ see why I never told you any of this? You were only four years old when your mother got sick, so you don't remember those last few weeks. I thought your mom was delirious! I had no idea if she even knew what she was saying in those final moments. But I loved her, and when she died, I mourned a lifetime's worth of loss. We were only given a few short years together, but in those short years, she became my life. After her death, the only thing that kept me going…was you. And I'm ashamed to admit that for a while, in my despondency, I forgot all your mom's warnings, or should I say, I relegated them to the ramblings of a dying woman.

Then one day, I looked, and you'd grown into the most beautiful young woman I'd ever seen, even more beautiful than your mom had been, and that's saying something. Suddenly, all her warnings came rushing back to me.

 _Protect her._

There was no scientific explanation for your fractured arm healing in under 48 hours. I spent years researching possible reasons, but there simply wasn't a rational explanation. Nor was there an explanation for how you have never been sick for more than a couple of hours here and there, nor for how you affect the weather around you. And once I accepted all that and accepted that your mom _never_ had a break with reality nor was she delirious on her deathbed…I knew what I had to do.

Her final request was for me to protect you, so I threw myself into it with fervor. I kept as close an eye on you as possible. I monitored your friends. I scrutinized your comings and goings, and I tried my best to convince you to never leave Forks, despite the monotony of life in such a small town and the better job offers you were getting in Seattle. I tried to keep you hidden in our little corner of the world, and I suppose all I accomplished was to push you away. When you decided to move to Seattle, I was furious…because I was terrified. You see, your mom saw monsters coming for you, and now…now it seems they've found you.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Yes, the monsters have found me, but these men here are _not_ monsters," I said shakily while silent tears rolled down my cheeks. My…father and I sat side by side in the sunroom on the new furniture Edward, Emmet, and Jasper bought after the _Sunroom Incident_. Edward hovered behind me, his hand comfortingly – and protectively – on my shoulder. Emmett and Jasper stood sentry on either side of us.

My father's…Carlisle's wary gaze traveled distrustfully from one man to the other. In turn, they took him in just as vigilantly. His wandering gaze rested on where Edward's possessive hand curved around my shoulder.

"Then what are _they_?" he scowled. "They're obviously not normal men with their black and red eyes and inhuman strength! And _that_ one tried to…"

I chuckled mirthlessly. "As we've just established, I'm no normal woman either. Apparently, I've _never_ been one. They're part of my world, Dad. My real world." I lay a hand on top of Edward's. "This man, Edward, is…my life, and I'm his. We've belonged to each other for a long, long time. The man to his right is Emmett, my brother from a past life, and the man to Edward's left is Jasper, my friend and likely the most brilliant person alive. They're immortal vampires, Dad, and they're a permanent part of my life now. They aren't the monsters Mom saw coming. Those monsters are real, but these _men_ protect me from them. They're teaching me to protect myself because there is one immortal creature coming for me, and he'll be here in a matter of weeks. And I tell you all this bluntly because, after everything you've just told me, I don't see this shocking you."

His own silent tears fell before he replied in a whisper. "It…doesn't, not anymore."

" _Why_ , Dad? Why did you never tell me _any_ of this?"

"How was supposed to tell you?" he retorted. "Never mind the part where I wasn't your real father, but how would you have suggested I tell you the part where your mother feared that the man who'd fathered you would someday find us or the part where she had visions or even the part where we knew you were special…different?"

"I've spent weeks trying to find answers to this puzzle my life has become, and all this time, you've had this _huge_ piece of it. You should've told me," I choked accusingly.

Edward squeezed my shoulder. "Shh," he whispered comfortingly. "It's okay, my love."

"Maybe I should've," Carlisle conceded.

"And yet there are still things I need to know," I said, wiping away my tears and strengthening my voice.

"Like what?" my dad asked. "Bella, I've told you all I know."

"What was his name, Dad? What was the name of the man who fathered me?"

Carlisle held my gaze, frowning darkly. "His name was Charles."

Charles.

Carolus.

Karles.

"Jesus," I breathed. "My God, they're all back. In one form or another, they're all back." Slowly trailing my eyes up to Edward, I found him wearing a stoic, impassive mask, but a furious fire danced in his eyes.

"What more can you tell us of Charles?" The ice in Edward's voice was in stark contrast to the flames in his gaze.

"That's all I know," my father replied, inhaling and exhaling deeply, his eyes on me even though he spoke to Edward. "That was all my wife knew. When we first married, I tried to locate him – just to find out more about him and set my wife at ease, but I didn't have enough to go on. I've researched your mom's background too, honey," he said, smiling apologetically at me. "I wanted to see if I could find some explanation, something that would make some sort of sense of your mother's dreams and your…gifts, but I found nothing substantial. Your mom came from a very small family. She was an only child, and her parents were only children. Her mom, your grandmother, was the only child of your great-grandmother, who was herself an only child. Your great-great-grandmother was also an only child, and-"

"And so on, and so on," I murmured, cutting him off. "Women from women."

"Yes," my dad corroborated with a puzzled frown, "women from women as far down the line as I was able to go. That was the only anomaly I could find."

Despite everything, I smiled at him, reaching across the couch to take his hand. When I did, he exhaled in relief and tried to disguise the sob on which he choked.

"Well, Dad, you stumbled upon the mother of all anomalies there."

"What does that mean?"

"Dad," I whispered desperately, my heart racing in my chest. "I understand your need to protect me. It's frustrating to know you never told me this, but I understand your need to protect her as well. But Dad, I promise you, these men are not who she feared, and I have to know. Mom's name…what was Mom's real name?"

An entire lifetime transpired before he finally responded, yet somehow, I already knew. Even before his mouth curved into a smile as if he were picturing her in his mind, picturing the woman whose beautiful features I only remembered vaguely. She was the same woman whose features I'd purposely blocked when I still wasn't ready to accept the truth, the woman who'd helped me one day not so long ago in the library, the woman who'd been my mother in both my lifetimes.

Even before he spoke the words, I knew what he would say.

"Her real name…was Esme."

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 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **The format for this Carlisle POV was a bit different. He's a new voice to the story, and I wanted to try something different. In case anyone was confused, he was telling his story and speaking to Bella and sometimes to Edward and the others off to the side while answering their questions and such. I tried to make the gist of the questions he was being asked self-explanatory.**

 ****Also, I'm floored by the fact that 'The Age of Innocence' was** **voted the No. 1 completed fic for 2016 on Twifanfictionrecs dot com, with Begin Again voted the No. 6 completed fic of 2016. I'm so honored. Thank you so very much to all who voted. :)**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook: Stories by PattyRose**

 **See you guys next week!**


	20. Ch 20: Innocence is a Relative Term

**A/N: Happy Friday! I'm either a few days late or a few days early with this update. I've lost track. Those of you on Facebook know why, lol.**

 **Anyway, the other thing is that as regularly tends to happen with me, this chapter grew waaay too long. Therefore, I've split it in two, and the second half will post on Monday. You're all guaranteed at least one more update next week. :)**

 **So go relax after a long week, pour yourself a glass of wine, and read on.**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes (All remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is all mine.**

 **Chapter 20 – Innocence is a Relative Term**

* * *

I was never a big sports enthusiast.

In high school, I played volleyball, and I suppose I was decent enough, but by no means the star player. Come to think of it, I wasn't among the best players at all. My spikes tended to head in the opposite direction of where I'd intended them. More than once, I caused the volleyball to bounce off the heads of the unlucky team members in front of me. That's actually how I landed my first boyfriend in my senior year: Eric. I apologized profusely to Eric for bouncing the volleyball off of his crown. He smiled and assured me he was okay. Two months later, I lost my virginity. A couple of months after that, we broke up. Neither one of us was heart-broken. We remained passable friends, and a couple of months after graduation, I totally dismissed the memory of Eric Yorkie and my first sexual encounter.

There were a couple of other less than extraordinary sex partners in college, all which I would undo now if possible, now that I knew so much more, and now…now that I had Edward.

But that's beside the point. My point is that the ability to respond to balls being thrown at me from different directions, volleying them back and forth while keeping said balls in the air, catching and pitching objects continuously hurled at boomerang speed with only seconds in between to catch my breath, was never my forte. Therefore, the past few weeks of exactly that sort of game was beginning to drive me bat-shit crazy, and I was scared witless that I would end up dropping one of these metaphorical balls incessantly being cast toward me at a superhuman pace.

And now, my very human dad had been drafted into the game.

I suppose I wasn't thinking very clearly that morning when he showed up at Edward's apartment, and apparently, neither was my dad – not after everything we'd revealed to one another. The fact that I convinced him to stay in the apartment with two vampires while I attended my morning lecture hall with another vampire – that lecture hall itself an attempt at maintaining a thin grip on my sanity by carrying on my routine as normally as possible – was proof that neither one of us had our thinking caps on. But my father needed medical attention after his encounter with Edward, and I needed to get out and pretend I was normal, at least for a few hours.

When Edward and I returned from the university a few hours later, I sprinted into the apartment nervously, finally realizing what I'd done: I'd left my father home alone with two vampires.

"Where is he?" I asked anxiously when I found Emmett and Jasper in the living room, each with a laptop on their knees carrying on their human software developer jobs. "Where's my dad?"

"He's fine, Bella," Jasper assured me, placing his laptop to the side and giving me his full attention. "After I reset his shoulder, he was in a bit of pain, so we convinced him to take something and now…now he's resting in the spare room and will most likely not wake for a few hours."

"What do you mean you convinced him to take something? As a rule, my father doesn't take painkillers. He doesn't enjoy having his senses dulled, and he would never agree to take something strong enough to knock him out." I narrowed my eyes.

Jasper's lips tightened into a straight line. His eyes quickly flickered to where Edward stood behind me, then to Emmett seated a few feet away before snapping back to mine.

"Jasper, what did you do?"

He swallowed. "I may have added something to his water."

"You drugged my father," I said, so stunned I couldn't even manage any inflection.

"My lady, we have priorities. Time is growing short, and we must work on developing your gift. Your father's presence can only hinder-"

"You drugged my father?" I repeated, my voice taking on more vehemence.

Emmett tried to interject. "Bella, you have to understand-"

"All I understand is that I left here this morning entrusting my dad's well-being to you both, and you've drugged my father!"

I felt Edward's hands wrap around my shoulders, and instantly, even unwillingly, my frame relaxed. When he spoke, his warm breath fanned over the nape of my neck.

"Bella, my love, I understand that this is a difficult situation for you, but your father's presence here is a distraction we cannot afford. We must figure out how to deal with this."

I turned toward him, causing his hands to fall away from my shoulders.

"What do you mean 'how to deal?' And the _this_ to which you're referring is my _father_. He'll stay with me in my apartment until his shoulder is better, and then he'll return to Forks and to his job as the hospital's chief-of-staff. He has responsibilities as well."

Edward's angular jaw tightened. "I do not know that it is that simple at this point."

I locked my eyes on him silently for a few moments, until I was sure I could speak calmly and rationally. "I'm going to go change my clothes so that we can work on developing my _gift_ – which takes priority over absolutely everything. Please let me know as soon as my father wakes."

With that, I turned and headed up to Edward's bedroom.

OOOOOOOOOO

Standing in front of the dresser mirror in Edward's bedroom, I struggled to undo the small, white buttons on my blouse, but my hands shook. I managed the first couple of buttons well enough, but after three unsuccessful attempts at the next one, I threw up my hands, further aggravated when the blouse hung halfway down my arms and constrained my furious movements.

"This is ridiculous. This entire situation is ridiculous. Why am I even changing? I mean, what fucking difference does it make what I wear to…"

When I caught sight of Edward's reflection in the mirror, I cut off my muttered rant. Unlike me, he looked perfectly composed and calm, dressed casually in a pair of faded jeans and black polo which left him ready for his ruse as a student so that he could shadow me or equally ready to help me practice my gift.

Again, when his warm hands curved around my bare shoulders, all my troubles faded to the background of my complicated consciousness. He stroked and soothed, and once my stiff shoulders relaxed, he drew his arms around me and pulled me against his unyielding chest. Wordlessly, he unfastened the buttons on my blouse. When he was done, the blouse fell completely open, and Edward met my eyes through the mirror.

"Better?"

"Yes." I sighed. "Thank you."

He snorted in response, his hands edging back up to my bare shoulders. "How do _you_ feel, Bella?"

I drew in a deep breath, exhaling it slowly. "Do you mean after finding out that my dad isn't really my dad and that the man who fathered me is yet another evil being after me? Or do you mean after finding out that my mother, Renee, whose name wasn't actually Renee as I'd believed all my life, but rather Esme, was a reincarnation of my medieval mother, Lady Resmae? Or could you possibly mean after realizing that Renee slash Esme, who by the way, died twenty-two years ago, was the librarian who appeared in my vision in the library, and who helped me find _The Verse for Bellaria_? How do I feel after which one of those?"

Throughout my speech, Edward's expression remained inscrutable. When I was done, he silently studied me for a few moments before dipping his head to the crook of my neck. There, he released a heavy sigh and pressed his lips to my throat, brushing them gently back and forth. I felt his moist tongue dart out for a fraction of a second before he pulled away with an audible swallow. Then his jaw came to rest on top of my head.

"That night in the alley when you mentioned Esme, I suspected you may have seen some sort of vision of Resmae, but I could not be sure. Then afterward, you had so much with which to contend that I did not want to add yet one more thing."

"Edward, you can't keep doing this," I said, holding his gaze through the mirror. "You can't shield me from absolutely everything. If we're going to get through this, then I need to know exactly what I'm facing."

He expelled another heavy breath, shuttering his eyes momentarily before reopening them. "You just look so exhausted, my love – as beautiful as ever, but exhausted, and I cannot help but think that one of these days…"

"I _am_ exhausted," I admitted, "but keeping things from me won't change that. Besides, throwing Emmett and Jasper across the room without actually having to lift a finger was unexpectedly depleting. And you know, there was last night's sex marathon as well."

He narrowed his gaze in bemusement as if he couldn't fathom my joking at a time like this. Then he simply smirked before another small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"So much for giving you a perfect night free of concerns."

"Hey, it was a pretty perfect night," I murmured, "until you decided to beat the shit out of my father the next morning."

When he spun me around, I noted how this close, it was easy to see a hint of crimson still framing his pupils, left over from the morning's hunt. It was a good thing the lecture hall had been so dark.

"I did not beat the shit out of him; the worse he received was a dislocated shoulder."

"Oh, okay then. I stand corrected."

"Bella, what would you have me do? You are my _life_ ," he hissed emphatically, gripping my arms. "You know this. You are the very reason for my existence, and I will not apologize for shielding you as much as I can. Carlisle bears a resemblance to Karles, and when I returned from my hunt to find him wandering the neighborhood, my first instinct did not involve stopping for closer inspection. He actually _is_ quite fortunate that I did no worse."

"Edward, he's my _father_ ," I said. "Regardless of whose blood runs in my veins, Carlisle Cullen is my dad, and it's my fault he was looking for me in the first place. The last time I spoke with Kate, I mentioned that you lived in this part of Georgetown. I never imagined my dad would actually contact her when he couldn't get a hold of me. I should've answered his calls, but as usual, I was too preoccupied with myself and with this damned gift to-"

"Neither will I have you feeling guilty for focusing on your gift!"

In a flash, he dipped his head and leveled me with sharply slanted eyes. The red glow still rimming his irises deepened, and I was glad we were no longer in class. At that moment, nothing would've disguised his true nature.

"I failed to protect you the first time," he hissed, "but I will _not_ let down my guard again. This time, I will err on the side of caution."

"And risk killing someone innocent in the process?" I asked in disbelief.

He pulled back and straightened stiffly. When he spoke, his tone was void of any emotion.

"Bella, much like time, innocence is a relative term. I learned that the hard way as well."

"Jesus, Edward, you can't mean that." I shook my head, indignation prickling my scalp at his cold and seemingly heartless inflexibility. My mouth opened, and a sharp retort danced on the tip of my tongue along the lines of "we're no longer in the fucking middle ages."

But then…even as I bristled at the callousness of his words, I could see the terror which guided them swimming deep within the black waters of his gaze. Reaching out tentatively, I wrapped a hand around his forearm.

"Edward, tell me what happened. When Bellaria and Sir Edward met with her father after disobeying and marrying in secret," I swallowed, "what happened?"

And just like that, all of Edward's hard-edged obstinacy faded into nothing. His features softened; although, they remained wary. "My love, have you not seen it all in your dreams?".

"No, not all of it. I think, subconsciously, at least, I've been waiting for you to tell me the last part."

His hands slid around the nape of my neck, fingers splayed open so that he could tilt my head up closer to him. Yet when he nodded, the action seemed meant mostly for himself, his voice now laced with a millennium's worth of recrimination.

"Yes, Bella, that is how it should be. I failed you the first time, and as my penance, you deserve to hear from _me_ all the ways in which I did so."

"Edward, that's not what I-"

I was unable to finish because the rest of Edward's words erupted in a heated rush.

"Bella, upon learning of our marriage, the man who called himself your father almost one-thousand years ago, the Baron Karles of House Swein demanded we renounce one another. In my arrogance, I believed I could _talk_ to him. I believed that if I could prove to him how happy I could make you and what an invaluable asset he would have in me as his son-in-law," he chuckled derisively, "all would be well. Fool that I was, I believed your happiness mattered to him. I believed in a code of honor, in a code of chivalry which would lead us to a solution where you would remain my wife, and he would still receive the material gains he so coveted. You see, he wanted to give you to Lord Jakob in marriage so that they could combine both fiefdoms and create a small kingdom in and of its own. Of course, now we know what Lord Jakob truly wanted from you. And now I see that Karles has been Jakob's pawn throughout the ages," he hissed. "We interfered with their plans, Bella, so in return for my agreement to this new plan, Karles would gift me with Cateline, your lady-in-waiting, whom I believe in the present is yet another incarnation in the form of your friend, Kate."

I didn't even have time to stop and examine all he was telling me because his speech poured out with such a swift flow that I could barely register his words, much less analyze them. It was as if a dam had broken, and there was no holding back the deluge. And as he rushed through the tale, my mind's eye quickly brought the scene to life. I saw the gloomy, stark halls of Castle Swein rise before me, dark, imposing, and cold. I saw the handsome and strong knight, SirEdward, dressed in dark damask coat and breeches, pinned to the hard castle floor by an army of guards while he howled in fury and demanded the release of his wife, Lady Bellaria, who was held bound just a few feet away.

"When I refused this solution..." Here, he paused, "when I refused, I thought he would kill me, and as much as it pained me to leave you, I was prepared to face death rather than renounce my love for you. But instead…Bella, instead, he slit _your_ throat before my very eyes."

Instinctively, my hand flew up to my neck. Suddenly, I felt the sharp end of a dagger slice from end to end across my throat. I inhaled wildly, expecting to choke on my own blood. The phantom gash from a millennium ago was accompanied by echoes of Bellaria's final moments, weak reproductions of her last sights, sounds, thoughts...

In a flash, Edward crushed his lips to my throat, his warm mouth moving desperately against my unblemished skin.

"Shh," he breathed in between heated kisses to a wound which wasn't there. "Shh, my love. You are not hurt. You are _not hurt_ ," he repeated over and over in a strangle whisper almost as if he was trying to reassure himself as much as me. Then with a sharp hiss, he pulled back, eyes wild and frenzied.

"You took your last breath in my arms, and I swore to you, I _swore_ I would find you again. Afterward, Karles' guards drew their swords upon Jasper and me. We fought, but there were too many, and in the end, they felled us. The guards took us beyond the castle walls and left us there for dead."

"But you weren't dead, were you?" I interjected. "Like Emmett with the boar, there was still a flicker of life in you."

"I _wanted_ to be dead," he growled. "I prayed for death so I might join you, but it was not to be – not yet."

I cradled his jaw in my hand, stroking his scar with my thumb while silent tears tread down my own cheeks. "What happened, Edward? What happened beyond those castle walls?"

Edward's eyes moved beyond me, and all at once, I found myself seated sideways on top of his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed. Lifting my eyes to his, I was met by a black, bottomless abyss framing dark eyes full of images from a horrific past.

"My memories of the period before my reawakening are focused on only one sensation. I recall pain, an excruciating pain that ripped through my heart and shredded my very soul. Within this sensation for which agony is too weak a word, I heard your screams, and I reached out for you. Over and over, I reached for you, I called for you, yet you were always just beyond my reach. And all the while, I knew this hell was to be my eternal punishment for failing you. It was unbearable, and as I howled in torment, I prayed for total obliteration, for anything that would end it. If you were to ask me immediately following this period how long the torture lasted, I would've told you it lasted lifetimes, generations, eons. I now know it was merely a matter of days.

Then, I awoke."

Once more, Edward stopped; this pause much longer than the last. Eyes glazed, it was as if he was reliving the entire event. When he finally spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper.

"No longer were we out in the open where Jasper and I were left to rot. My eyes opened to this new life inside a cabin – rather, more of a hastily-constructed shack. Colors were suddenly brighter. Shades I never knew existed framed a world which suddenly looked so altered. Sounds I'd never heard thrummed like butterfly wings in my ears. Scents I could've never imagined invaded my nostrils and made my saliva thicken and pool. Everything was sharper and so magnified that I only distractedly wondered…"

Again, he stopped, blinking his eyes rapidly as if pulling himself out of a daze.

"What?" I prompted anxiously. "What did you only distractedly wonder?"

"Bella, I am ashamed to admit this to you, but my first concern, my most immediate need – in that moment, even beyond my need for you – was the bewildering and overwhelming need to quench the thirst lodged deep within my throat. It drove me mad, my love," he said his voice thick with condemnation. "My thirst was so insupportable that I howled and cursed at the heavens like the monster Carlisle accused me of being. I raked my fingers down my neck in an attempt to rip out my own throat and thereby be rid of the rabid craving. But I could not. Then I noted that my right hand was once more attached to my arm, and it bewildered me all the more."

"Your right hand was once more…?" I questioned, confused.

"I lost my right hand before I was stabbed."

A sliver of terror raced up my spine, making me shiver, but Edward seemed too focused on his confession to stop.

"When Emmett and Jasper returned to the shack, that is how they found me, in a disoriented uproar."

"So…" I whispered carefully, "Emmett and Jasper weren't there when you awoke?"

"No. Jasper awoke ravenous a few hours before me. Emmett swiftly took him to feed. You see, 'twas your brother, Emmett's shack. By that point, almost a year had passed since we believed him dead, but as you know, someone changed him. He'd fed from his creator to complete the metamorphosis, but then…he was abandoned – we still do not know why. The woods became his home. He kept to them and away from Rosalie, from you, and from me. You see, he did not yet know control. Living in this beast-like state, he fed on wild creatures and on unfortunate individuals wandering the woods. Only occasionally, and with both great risk and trepidation, would he dare steal into town and within the castle walls, unable to completely relinquish the man in him or those whom that man once loved. He would hastily check on Rosalie and on us before the craving would overtake him and…and then he'd slink back into the woods before he could do something unspeakable."

Another pause ensued, the longest one yet.

"The day you were murdered…"

"He was too late for me, but not for you and Jasper…" Despite the horrific tale, and despite the proof before me, I breathed a sigh of relief.

"He followed the men who took us into the woods, took his fill from them, and then saved us."

"And he knew how to save you, how to turn you?"

I spoke the question gently, carefully, suppressing my instinctive urge to gasp at the knowledge of Edward's – of all three men's – violent beginnings into their new lives. I was afraid that if I reacted too strongly, if I spoke too loudly, Edward would break out of the trance in which he seemed to be. His protective instincts would kick in, and he would close himself off, and in turn, close me out of a part of the past I could never know without him.

"Bella, the ability to create others is instinctual in us. It is like a spider weaving a web for its prey or a caterpillar creating a cocoon for its transformation. Yes, he knew how to make the change."

"What was it like?" I wondered.

"It was like…what you would expect of animals in the wild. We hunted without a single human word exchanged between us. We grunted, growled, and snarled like beasts. We were creatures of the night now, venturing forth into the darkness with only one primal need, only one pursuit in mind: warm blood. We were consumed by our hunger, ruled by our thirst, and unable to think beyond. Every being on two or four legs which dared cross our path became prey. We were insatiable.

And yet, throughout it all, there was no question in my mind as to what I now was; that knowledge was instinctual as well. For days, we fed without pause and with no discrimination between man or beast. It did not take long for rumors of demons deep in the woods, demons in the forms of the men who were once the fiefdom's greatest knights, to reach the village. You can imagine their horror," he chuckled coldly. "Panic spread like wildfire, as it tends to do in such situations. Within days, the rumors reached the castle. We knew this, for the prey on which we fed would yell, beg, and finally threaten us with the information that Lord Karles knew of us and was preparing."

Again, he chuckled. Meanwhile, by this point, all I could do was listen in stunned silence.

"So as he prepared for us, we hunted and built our strength. We were monstrosities created by hatred, sating our thirst so we could soon sate our wrath. When finally the day arrived in which we were ready, we knew this instinctively as well. It was then we spoke our first words to one another."

"What did you say?" I barely dared to breathe, holding back all my thoughts and comments, even the part of me which noted how, as Edward's tale wore on, he reverted more and more to his accent of the past, to his language as Sir Edward.

It was then I realized I sat atop Sir Edward's lap now, not on Edward Masen's.

"We said 'vengeance.' Vengeance for a sister, vengeance for a lady…and vengeance for my _wife_ ," he spat.

Unable to hide my shock any longer, I shut my eyes, reopening them only when I was sure I wouldn't scream. The entire story was like one of those wrecks you simply can't turn away from – a wreck you know will remain imprinted to your brain long after you've passed it by.

"Then what happened?"

"They'd murdered you, Bella," he restated, his voice a cold, stoic monotone. " _Everyone_ in that castle was responsible for your murder, and we three: brother, friend, and husband, loved you. And I vowed revenge on every. last. one."

My tears fell freely, and Edward once more pulled his eyes away from me, training them on the wall behind me instead.

"I cannot look at you for the rest. I do not regret it, but I cannot look at you."

"What did you _do_ , my love?"

The grin that played around the corners of his mouth made my blood run cold.

"Karles had the castle fortified with hundreds of men, both outside of the walls and lining the battlements. He had the moat filled with all manner of predatory creatures, and then he had the drawbridge raised. The iron portcullis was guarded by what remained of his best warriors – men whom Emmett and _I_ had once trained. 'Twas almost humorous how simple it was when we came for them," he sneered. "We swam through the moat and fed on his predators, throwing their carcasses upward so the guards could know what to expect. The arrows they desperately shot at us bounced off our bodies. We snapped them like twigs and speared them through their own hearts. The hot oil they poured from the battlements was as benign as water to us, but to _them_ …" he snorted, his gaze now a sheet of black ice. "We fed on his best warriors, tore off their heads and impaled them on their own swords so that those hiding could behold their own fate. We took the torches and lit the oil, and as the fire spread, the castle burned to the ground." I shuddered at the boastful tone of his voice. "I'd warned all of them, Bella - from the faithless priest to the simplest flute player, I swore my vengeance against them all."

I couldn't speak or make one single solitary sound or movement. The dryness in my throat was excruciating. For weeks now, I'd known that Edward, as well as Emmett and Jasper, were vampires. I thought I knew exactly what that meant. I'd seen them in action. I'd seen Edward's eyes blacken countless times before my eyes; both in fury and in lust. But _this_ …

I'd never imagined him capable of this level of unspeakable madness.

"What did you do to Karles, to Jakob, to Cateline?"

I'd thrown all caution to the wind. Edward was in the middle of reliving a deadly rampage he had no intention of halting.

"Karles hid in the castle keep. When I found him, I tore off…body parts I'd promised him he'd lose. He cursed me to the pits of hell, and then I tore off his head. Emmett took care of a cowering Father Michel in a similar manner. Jakob we did not find," he hissed, "and later we learned why, of course. He was immortal, as were we now, rival beings for an eternity."

"And Cateline?" I breathed.

"I killed Cateline as well, Bella," he admitted flatly. "She begged forgiveness for having been the one to send word to your father of our marriage, for betraying your trust, for going along with his plan to separate us, and for believing that I would _ever_ take her to bed as your substitute," he snarled through twisted lips. "She begged, and I ripped out her throat the way your throat had been…damaged." He swallowed, nostrils flaring. "Then I left her to her agony – at least until the blaze consuming the castle claimed her."

My silent tears trekked their way downward, pooling around my jaw and falling on our laps.

"Afterward, the three of us disappeared, leaving behind death, destruction, and rumors that would last for generations – rumors that would become myths about creatures who lived in darkness and who fed on blood. Over time, the rumors became folklore, embellished with nonsense about coffins and crosses and an aversion to daylight." He shrugged. "Either way, we did not concern ourselves with the human world for a long time. It was many years before we learned to control ourselves and before we tried to live among humanity instead of off it. Once we could _think_ like men again, we attended university and followed other pursuits. We began our research in earnest. At that point, we decided to feed only on those whom we, as superior beings, deemed deserving of such a death. In time, as we became more…enlightened," he grinned deprecatingly, "when I realized you would return one day, we left those alone as well. For centuries, we have fed only on animals or on the newly-created shifters we encounter from time to time, for they are animals as well."

Just as Edward pointed out earlier, the passage of time was relative. If asked then, I would've thought I sat there for hours, for years before he finally spoke again.

"You see now what a monster I truly am. Your father, Carlisle, was correct about that." He shook his head and snorted, eyes downcast. "Bella, despite how much I know I've horrified you with this tale, I _do not_ regret killing all those people within that castle - not one of them, not the priest, not a begging and pleading Cateline, and most definitely not Lord Karles."

For a long time, I cried quietly before daring to cradle his face between my hands and guiding his eyes back to mine.

"I'm horrified, Edward, yes. If that was your aim, then you've succeeded in spades. I'm horrified."

When he tried to pull away from me, I held on tight, knowing he could easily jerk away if he truly wanted to. But no matter what he said about lacking remorse, about needing no absolution, and despite the cold gleam in his eyes, he didn't pull away.

"Did you expect me to sit here and deny it, to try to play it off like I'm not disturbed and sick at heart from all you've just told me? I don't know what to think – not yet. Jesus, it's one thing after another, and I can't…" I shook my head miserably. "I can't process it all at once!"

His eyebrows knit together.

"But do you want to know what I do know? The one thing I know at this moment without the shadow of a doubt?"

His wary expression made me think he didn't really want to know, but he nodded anyway.

"I know that you are no longer _Sir_ Edward and that the man here with me now is _not_ a monster. That much I know with every fiber of my being."

"Bella…"

"So if that's the point you were trying to make with this, you've failed," I assured him, shaking my head wildly. "I _won't_ judge you, Edward, based on the man you were _one thousand_ damned years ago _._ I can't." I fisted the hair at his temples and pulled his face closer. "Yes, I'm in shock, but I still love you, and I ache for you and what you went through, and I-"

"Christ's love, Bella!" he yelled, shocking me all the more when he yanked my hands off of him, holding them captive and immobile between his. He spoke in a strangled voice. "Do you not see? There is more! There is one more thing, the worst thing, the thing for which you will likely never be able to forgive me, and when you know this, you will know it all! You will see why I do not deserve your love, and why my soul, if I even still possess one, is damned! You will see why I deserve to rot in hell if this existence ever ends!"

My heart pounded in my chest. "What is it?" I whispered.

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **Yes, I know, I know. Cliffy Bitch at her full cliffy-bitchiness. BUT, the rest of the chapter is written and will post on Monday. So it's just the weekend until you know the rest. Telling you, it was just too long!**

 **Have a great weekend, loves!**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook: Stories by PattyRose**


	21. Chapter 21 - Guilt is Also Relative

**A/N: Thank you all for your wonderful thoughts.**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes. (All remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is all mine.**

* * *

 **Chapter 21 – Guilt is Also Relative**

 _For a few seconds, she is bewildered beyond the ability to speak._

 _The terror coursing through her limbs at finding herself taken prisoner to the castle is multiplied when she lifts her eyes to the men holding her bound as she is led into her father's great hall. A moment earlier, it was Lord Jakob's vile hand wrapped rigidly around her right arm, his fingers digging into her skin. But now, it is no longer he; rather, a simple, unknown guard holds her in his grip. She moves her eyes to her left, seeing if in her fright she has confused on which side Lord Jakob walked. But no; it is just a plain guard to her left as well. Yet she knows…._ _ **she knows**_ _it was previously Lord Jakob holding her captive._

" _What manner of trickery is this?" she asks. The guards merely sneer down their noses at her._

 _Either way, she has no time to puzzle this mystery any further, for she is within the great hall. Her eyes quickly scan the room for her husband. She sees her father first, seated in his place of honor at the head of the table, corpulent and avoirdupois, with a grin on his face that makes her blood run cold. To his right…Christ's love, to his right is Lord Jakob! She catches sight of a man to her father's left, with yellow hair and eyes so blue they almost light up the room, and she looks between them wildly, lifting her gaze upward once more to the men holding her and then back toward the table._

 _All this occurs in a matter of seconds because her eyes finally locate her beautiful husband. Despite all else, she exhales in relief. He is seated across from the three men, and his eyes grow round with shock as he beholds her. She is unable to keep her voice from quivering when she calls out to him._

" _Edward!"_

 _"My lord! My lord," Jasper yells from behind her, where he is dragged in by guards, "they arrived under cover of darkness, in numbers and with swords drawn! They have slain the rest! Forgive me, my lord, for failing to defend my lady!"_

 _Her heart clenches at the guilt evident in Jasper's words and tone, but she cannot comfort him, for all her concern is engaged by her husband, who shouts her name._

" _Bellaria!"_

 _He lunges from the table in the next instant, and she watches as he instinctively reaches for his sword. But he has left it at the cottage. Terror grips her limbs once more and makes her knees go weak. Her heart burrows deeper into her throat when, nonetheless, with no weapon, he engages the guards in combat._

" _Edward," she barely mouths in horror. "Edward."_

 _Yet he is a strong knight, an incomparable warrior. He defeats many of her father's guards with his bare hands. Then, relieving one guard of his sword, he does what he must. With skillful and deft movement, he swings the sword and cuts down all who dare approach him. Hope begins to swell in her breast, for her husband is a mighty sight to behold in his righteous fury. He is brave. He is honorable._

 _However, those gathered around him are not._

 _In a viciously craven manner, the remaining guards all fall on him as one. She hears a loud-pitched scream resound throughout the hall before she realizes that it is_ _ **her**_ _scream. The view of her husband is blocked by all the bodies surrounding him. By that point, she has lost all sensation in her limbs, and 'tis only the guards hold on her arms which keep her upright. When those guards encircling her husband finally dispel, she sees him. He is_ _ **alive**_ _! She sobs in unspeakable relief despite the manner in which they now hold him, prone to the ground, his face against the cold stone while their knees dig into his spine._

" _Release her!" he howls as he struggles to free himself. "Release my wife!"_

 _"Edward!" she cries. "I pray you all, do not harm him! Edward!"_

 _"Release her or I will kill you all like animals! Let her go!"_

 _Her dreams suddenly return to her – those nightmares of late where she sees rivers of blood and her husband…her husband with eyes of that same color. She wants to tell him not to struggle, not to give them any more excuse to harm him, but she will not distract him with her fears. Besides, she knows it will do no good. As long as she is held bound, he will fight with his last breath to free her, to preserve her life in any way he can, just as she will do_ _ **anything**_ _within her power to preserve his life._

 _She sees him struggling to lift his head, to catch sight of her, so she calls his name once more to assure him she is well._

 _"Edward!"_

 _He is not appeased._

 _"By my troth, I will cut off every single one of your COCKS AND FEED THEM TO THE PIGS! RELEASE MY WIFE!"_

 _Jasper makes the grave error of attempting to go to his sworn knight's aide. He receives many blows for his effort. Yet all the squire's grunts and groans fall to the wayside as she watches her father slowly approach her husband. He crouches casually in front of her knight, and her breath catches in her throat. It cannot bode well that he has ignored her throughout._

 _Instead, she listens in growing dismay and incredulity as her father makes her husband the vilest offer imaginable in exchange for her release. For one moment, she fears he will accept if only to win her freedom._

 _"Edward, no!" she pleads._

 _"You bastard, I will not!" her husband replies and follows this up with an attempt to wrap his hands around her father's throat, but there are too many guards on him. They drive their knees into his back, and she whimpers as she hears the breath leave his lungs in a sharp hiss._

 _"No, Father!" she screams. "I will never renounce my husband! I love him!"_

 _This, she prays, will convince her father of the futility of his attempt so that he will either release them or kill them. Either way, they shall be together as a family for eternity._

 _Her father merely snorts like a boar. For the first time that evening, he forces his attention toward her. Instead of granting them mutual death or freedom, he calls for Cateline._

 _With a long pull of breath into her lungs, she looks up and spies Cateline being escorted into the room, guards on either side of her yet not touching her. She has made her choice, her deal with the devil, and she is now afforded the treatment reserved for a high-born lady. Nevertheless, she dares spill tears as she stands and waits to be pronounced Sir Edward's next wife._

 _But her husband proclaims in no uncertain terms that he will not have Cateline, no matter what her father offers or what lies he tells. They shall remain ever faithful to their love. In spite of the madness surrounding them, a defiant smile tugs at the corners of her mouth._

 _"They are lies, Father," she hisses. "I know what you attempt with your cruel lies, and it will not work. You will not shake my faith in my husband."_

 _However, Lord Karles refuses to quit his attack on their union. He calls for Father Michel, the priest who married them. In a matter of a few treacherous moments, undeterred by her assurances that her union with her husband has indeed been consummated countless times over the past months, the priest annuls their marriage._

" _Nooo!" She is mad with both fury and despondency, for if her marriage is annulled, then…then…_

 _Everything happens quickly afterward. The entire room dissolves into madness. Edward is half-crazed with rage. He curses her father, refusing to submit. In turn, her father renounces all pretense at humanity._

 _She screams in impotent rage, held bound and forced to witness her husband's beating, to watch his blood being spilled - his beautiful, rich, strong blood. She struggles against her captors, but their grip is unyielding, almost unnaturally so. She is powerless to do naught but watch as her husband and her father battle over her._

 _And all the while, Lord Jakob…or someone resembling Lord Jakob, sits at the table, watching and grinning, believing he has won when her father proclaims that he will give her to him regardless of Edward's violent revolt. The other man at the table, the one with the bright blue eyes, watches the scene with apparent impassivity._

 _This…this is when she unleashes her wrath, when she divulges that which she has held close to her breast, what she did not know for certain herself until recently, what she was waiting to disclose to her husband in the privacy of their cottage, while they made love, while he filled her and their bodies writhed and joined as one - just as their souls already were. His rich and strong seed had taken hold within her and created…life._

 _"You cannot give me to Lord Jakob, for I am with child!"_

 _The lunacy in the room suddenly comes to a halt. Only the sound of her husband's labored breathing penetrates her eardrums. Perhaps, in her periphery, she spies the fury and hatred which spreads across Lord Jakob's face, but it cannot signify nor compete with her husband._

 _"I am with child," she repeats through her tears, heartbroken that such news must be delivered here yet elated by the pure joy which infuses her husband's handsome mien despite their current predicament. "I am with child, Edward - our child."_

 _"Bellaria…" he breathes, choked with emotion. "We will have a child."_

 _"No, you will not."_

 _She is in her husband's arms of a sudden, warm everywhere he touches yet chilled to the bones where his touch does not reach. All other faces and voices are a blur to her, all except her husband's. He commands all her attention with his broken sobs._

 _"I am sorry." His warm hand palms her cheek. "I am sorry, my Bellaria."_

 _She opens her mouth to speak for she must tell him what she sees in this moment, all she now knows. But she cannot make a sound._

 _"Wait for me, my wife. Wait for me as you promised - as always…for always. I will find you, Bellaria, wherever you go, and we will be together for eternity."_

 _A smile spreads across her mouth as she reaches for the small hand waiting for hers…and then…nothing_.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Bella..." With painful and cautious motion, Edward guided our entwined hands off of my lap, over my ribs, and settled them on top of my stomach. All the while, his face wore a mask of pure agony.

In that moment, the entire scene flashed before my eyes. That part of my past life repainted itself in my mind, in my memories, and I knew what she'd felt right before her death, what she'd ached for, what we'd lost – more than just one another, so much more.

" _No,_ " I choked. "God, no."

"You were with child when you were murdered," he said in a tortured voice, his features contorted in such a way that I knew if he could cry, he'd be doing so. "It was early in your pregnancy, and I did not know…and your dreams…your dreams were just beginning. You warned me not to meet with Karles. You wanted to flee, and I refused. Had I listened to you, none of it would've happened. We would not have lost each other or our child. So you see why I had to avenge not only you…but our child."

I pulled him against me and wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, burying my face into his shoulder as a strangled sob escaped. "Oh, Edward."

"Bella, I am so sorry. I am so sorry, my love. I failed you both."

"You didn't fail us. It's not your fault, Edward," I assured him through my tears. "God, it's not your fault. How could you have stopped any of this? It's _not_ your fault."

"How can you say that after what I've just told you?" he hissed.

I pulled away and met his eyes. "Because I just saw it, Edward," I cried quietly. "I just saw it, and I _felt_ it. And I know it wasn't your fault. I didn't believe so then, and I don't believe so now. God, please don't tell me you've been carrying this perceived guilt around for almost a thousand years?"

He dropped his gaze between us. "I might as well have reached into your womb and killed our child myself."

" _No_ ," I breathed in horror, fisting the hair at his temples and forcing his eyes back up to mine. "Listen to me, Edward Masen. Don't you ever, ever think that. I _never_ blamed you because you were not to blame," I said, infusing the words with as much conviction as possible. "We were betrayed, my love, by many people. And if you want to lay blame, maybe you should lay it at my feet."

His eyes blazed. " _What_?" he spat.

"Maybe I shouldn't have yelled that out. Maybe I should've known that the Baron Karles would've never accepted that."

"What would have been your other choice?" he growled. "Would you have married Lord Jakob?"

"No, of course not!" I protested. "But maybe that's the point, Edward. There was no solution. We were _fucked_ the moment we both walked into that castle. We were probably fucked long before that."

Edward held my gaze silently, studying me, gauging my sincerity in my absolution. And, of course, I meant it completely, yet the overpowering sense of loss was bewildering. Not only because it was a loss which had occurred almost _one thousand years_ earlier, but because even in this life, children were never something I'd given more than a cursory thought. But now…now it felt as if my womb had just been ripped to shreds.

And his next words speared right through my already destroyed hopes. "Bella…you must see it was my only chance of ever giving you a child."

"Maybe there's another way," I whimpered.

"No, my love." He shook his head slowly, his voice stronger now, his hands cradling my face. "No. There is no way. It cannot happen. There is _nothing_ alive within me, Bella. My kind cannot create life. We only create _death_."

"Then we can adopt, can't we?" I said defiantly, baffling myself with my sudden need for a solution. "After all this is over, we can adopt a child and-"

"How would we do that, my love?" he interrupted. "How would we explain to any child that his or her father is a _vampire_? Yes, we could disguise some aspects of the affliction, but what would we say to this child when I had to leave to hunt or when I returned with red, glowing eyes? How would we explain why my eyes blacken in anger or desire? How would we explain my frigid touch? How would we explain my failure to age like a normal, human man?"

"I don't know, Edward! I don't know," I sobbed openly now. "But we'd figure it out!"

"Bella…" he swallowed thickly. "I wish I could change this for you…but I cannot."

"Are these the real reasons why you won't consider changing me?"

"No," he replied emphatically. "No, Bella. Not now. Not like this. Bella, I am no angel. I am a selfish creature. The only pure thing in my existence has only ever been my love for you. After the solstice, we will decide; once all this is behind you. Then, you can choose what you really want…what you truly need. Perhaps…the best thing for you is someone who can give you what I cannot." He held my gaze meaningfully.

Desperation bubbled inside me, welled up so powerfully that it was like a fire burning through my very core. My heart clenched as a sense of dread coiled itself around my chest. It made it hard for me to breathe, yet at the same time, I wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all.

But, despite all the insanity, I knew one thing.

When I pulled off my blouse and threw it aside, Edward watched me silently. Reaching behind me, I unclasped my bra and let it fall, and still, he said not a word, his eyes on mine. I pushed him back against the mattress and straddled his hips, and he guided me upward, pushing up my skirt with one hand while unfastening his pants with the other. Lifting my hips, I sank over him, taking him deep and exhaling in relief as I stretched around him.

With no pause, I began rocking, pressing my palms to his chest for balance as Edward gripped my hips and eased me back and forth along his length.

" _You_ are all I need," I breathed, holding his dark gaze.

"Then take me for I am yours," he replied huskily.

Our hips moved together in a perfect, frantic rhythm, a rhythm which, in a short time, had become my solace, my rock, a pure way to lose myself and forget the madness consuming me. Edward lifted my hips and eased me down, over and over, sometimes hard and fast, sometimes so slowly I wanted to cry with need. Instead, I threw back my head as he filled me hard or tender, fast or slow, as his upward strokes and thrusts took me away to a place where none of this insanity existed.

" _Edward_ ," I sighed, "Edward…your love is all I need."

He sat up under me, gripping my jaw in one hand while his other hand opened on my back, fingertips dancing along my spine. Our hips moved together and apart while my soft breasts pressed against his unyielding chest. We were as close as two people could possibly be.

"Take it," he hissed. "It is yours."

We groaned and sighed, his black eyes penetrating, only breaking away from mine to capture my mouth, to brush his lips over my neck and my breasts.

"Edward," I whimpered, my movements growing desperate. "Edward, your love is all I need."

He grabbed my hips once more, thrusting upward while he pulled me downward and held me there, joining our bodies and souls as one. The coil within me snapped and released the most intense rush of heat into every extremity, all the way up to my scalp and down to my toes. I fisted his hair as I tried to keep my heart from imploding.

"Then take it, my love. Take _me_ ," he growled, capturing my mouth, inhaling every last whimper and shuddering exhale of my perfect orgasm, "for I am ever yours."

"For always," I breathed against his mouth. "I've made my choice, and it's you for _always_ , Edward, for an eternity."

He came inside me with one long groan of fulfillment, his heat rushing through me and bringing me pleasure once more while he buried his face against my shoulder. "Then it will be you and me as always…for always, my love."

OOOOOOOOOO

I awoke a short while later. I hadn't realized I'd dozed off. I was cocooned within Edward's hold, his chest to my spine and his breath on my neck, warm and reassuring.

"I would like to ask something of you," he murmured carefully, having sensed my short nap was over.

"What is it?" I whispered.

"Do not return to your apartment. Stay here with me."

A few weeks ago, even a few days ago, his request would've been received with indignation, with a sense of loss of autonomy, with resentment at the implication that I couldn't take care of myself.

"Alright," I breathed.

Quickly, he flipped me onto my back and hovered over me, supporting his weight on his palms. His eyes almost glowed in the darkness of the room, bright and green and shining. It made a flicker of a memory dance in the back of my mind…

But Edward's next words chased all other thoughts or memories away.

"And then…marry me, Bella. After the solstice, become my wife. All other possibilities we can look into after the solstice."

I held my breath for a few seconds. Despite the beauty of the moment, I dreaded what might be the last word attached to that proposal, the yet unspoken… _again_. Yes, it was stupid to still be jealous of my past self, especially after everything she'd… _I'd_ gone through. But as the seconds ticked by, and that last word wasn't uttered, and Edward began to look anxious at my delayed response…I exhaled and smiled softly.

"Okay."

OOOOOOOOOO

When we finally emerged from the bedroom later that evening, my dad was waiting in the sunroom. He was gazing out of the glass wall that opened and overlooked the medieval garden below. His left arm was in a sling, and his right hand was buried deep in his pocket. Despite his condition, his entire stance still commanded respect.

While I approached my dad, Edward remained a few feet away. Emmett and Jasper were in the room as well, seated at the table on the opposite side.

"I've been told this garden was planted for you," my dad said, still facing away from me. I watched his head tilt upward to the gray clouds hovering over the cherry trees. "I've been told…your gift is far beyond what I've ever seen or imagined."

"Yes," I said softly. "It is."

He expelled a heavy breath. "It's…quite a lot to take in, everything I've been told over the past twenty-four hours."

"I know it is, Dad, but you don't have to concern yourself with any of it anymore. In a couple of days, your arm will be better, and you can just return to Forks."

"So I'm supposed to return to Forks, resume my work, and forget all about this."

"It's for the best, Dad. Jasper says your shoulder will heal soon, and you can simply put everything-"

He finally turned to face me, his chest heaving. "What about what your mother said? She told me to take you to the cabin. Bella," he leaned in closer, "I'm not leaving you alone with these three…men, no matter how much you trust them."

"Dad…" I sighed.

"Sir," Edward said through a tight jaw, "I assure you that nothing is more important to _any_ of us-"

Before Edward could finish, my dad raised a palm in his direction. Yet as he spoke, his eyes remained on me.

"Son, I've been told my daughter was your wife in a different lifetime. I've been told quite a few things by your friends here, and as insane as it all sounds, it's no more shocking than the things I've seen in these past twenty-four hours. So, unless I'm willing to accept that I've lost my mind completely, I'll accept your word for now."

Even from across the room, I could feel Edward's tense indignation multiplying, even more so when my dad leveled his cold gaze in his direction.

"But you need to understand one thing: she may have been your wife a thousand years ago in another life, but she's been my daughter for twenty-four years in this one. So, would you please allow me the courtesy of a discussion with _her_?"

I could only assume Edward nodded despite the cold fury I could sense. Without another word to Edward, my dad swept his gaze back to me.

"Bella, I'm not leaving," he said firmly. "These other two young…men have filled me in on the solstice and its significance, and we've been discussing…" He drew in a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling as he reopened them. "I believe that perhaps, your mother meant for _all_ of us, including these _men_ ," he added begrudgingly, "retreat to the cabin – the one we used to go to when you were a little girl. She said 'take them _all_ to the cabin.'"

I swallowed thickly. "Alright," I conceded. "Maybe that _is_ what she meant-"

"Then let's go!" he followed up hastily.

"But not right now, Dad. I've got a week and a half of my class left. I can't go anywhere right now."

Again, he squeezed his eyes shut as if he were trying desperately to rein in his temper. And when he reopened them, I wasn't so sure he'd succeeded. "Damn it, Bella. With all this going on, how is finishing out the quarter a priority?"

"Bella, I must say that I agree with your father on that," Edward abruptly said.

"I do too," Emmett added.

"And me," Jasper said.

"Why shouldn't it be a priority?" I frowned. "If the aim is to get through this alive and well, then maintaining my career should be a priority."

"Perhaps you can request a leave of absence, my love," Edward suggested. "The time you spend teaching is time better spent working on your gift. We are down to less than two weeks."

I rounded on him. "If we're going to go to the cabin and try to hide there until after the solstice, that's fine by me. But I need to finish this quarter. I'll practice every moment in between, but I _need_ this bit of normalcy to maintain my sanity."

Edward squared his jaw and pressed his lips together. And even though I could tell he wasn't thrilled with my request or my reasoning, and that he would've preferred to leave to the cabin right then and there, he conceded with a tight nod.

"Fine," my dad said. "Either way, I'm not returning to Forks until this is over. _I'll_ request a leave of absence from the hospital. I'll blame it on my injuries from my _clumsy_ fall," he scowled sardonically.

"Dad, I'm moving in here," I said. "Edward and I just discussed it a few minutes ago. We're…getting married," I smiled. "After the solstice."

I watched the blood drain from my dad's face, yet he replied as stoically as possible. "Alright. I don't know that I can offer congratulations on that just yet. Let's get through the solstice first. I'll stay in your apartment then."

"Perhaps it is best if you stay here as well, sir," Edward said impassively. "At this point, I would prefer if we were all under one roof."

I turned around and shot Edward a surprised look, quirking a brow. He merely responded with a shrug, but after a few moments, I could see the sense in his offer. I only hoped my dad could see it as well as I turned back to him.

"What do you say, Dad? Do you think you can tolerate living under the same roof with three vampires until the end of the quarter, followed by another couple of days up at the cabin until the solstice?

For a few long moments, Carlisle Cullen took in my question silently. I couldn't even imagine all the things running through his head. The shock of all he'd learned in the past day or so had to be even greater for him than for me. At least what I'd learned was about my own past, but my poor Dad had been pulled into this world by his love for a woman who died over two decades earlier. When he drew in another breath and suddenly closed the space between us, wrapping his good arm around my shoulder, I felt six years old again.

"For you, Bella, I could tolerate that and much more. I know I haven't been the best of fathers for a…well, for a long while. I handled it all wrong, but you're my little girl, and I'll do whatever I can to keep you safe."

"Oh, Daddy." I slid my arms around his waist and held him tightly, making sure to be careful with his shoulder, feeling warm and safe…and loved.

It was another one of those rare moments that happen in between a storm, one brief respite when the sun peeks out and shines its rays. Somehow, I had the four most important men in the world under one roof, and somehow, they were willing to try to make peace with one another for my sake. In return, if I accomplished nothing else with my life, I would learn to use this gift so that I could protect all four of them and keep them in my life…forever.

"Looks like having her dad here might be a good thing after all," Jasper murmured.

Pulling away from my dad, I looked up and followed the trajectory of all their gazes.

Outside of the windowed wall, the sun had indeed emerged.

The gray clouds were dispelled. The cherry trees bloomed. Suspended in mid-air and hidden by the tall trees and trellises, the flowers danced around the perimeter of the garden in an explosion of shapes, colors, and sizes. Inside their circle, the fountain's sparkling waters had taken flight and now bounced from flower to flower as if they were all in a game of tag, their crystalline transparency reflecting the sun's rays in a prismatic light show.

"Oh, boy," my dad sighed unevenly, running the hand on his good arm through the length of my hair.

"Alright, then!"

We all looked up at Emmett's loud boom. He was grinning widely, and once he had all our attention, he clapped his large hands together once.

"Now, let's show your pop here what else you can do, little sis."

* * *

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	22. Chapter 22 - Logic Versus Faith

**A/N: Yes, updates have been erratic. Sorry, guys. I've been sick, busy, you name it. But thank you so much for your wonderful thoughts.**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes (All remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is all mine.**

* * *

 **Chapter 22 – Logic versus Faith**

For me, the next few days were split between three tasks: prepping my lecture hall students for their quarter-final, preparing the actual final exam, and, of course, working every other moment on learning how to manifest and control my _gift_. Then, late in the evenings when I would drop into bed exhausted from the day, Edward was always there by my side, holding me, making love to me, and soothing my body and soul, at least, until morning arrived once more.

All the while, Edward attended the few classes left in the spring quarter with me. We drove to the university together, but once on campus, we went our separate ways. No matter what else was happening, the university's non-fraternization policy was still in full effect. So, on the days when I remained at school for office hours or met with the dean of the department on prepping the final exam, Edward visited the library to "study" or walked around campus or just waited in the car. Once I was done, I'd meet him by the Rover, so we could go home.

I knew he was uneasy with my insistence on maintaining my routine. He wanted us – wanted _me_ – out of the city already, tucked away in my father's cabin under cover of the Cascades with its lush, dense forestry overgrown with coniferous evergreens of every shape and size. He wanted us where wildlife still ruled and roamed freely, and where all of nature was cloistered off by a majestic string of snow-capped mountains.

Apparently, this was where my mother's final vision placed us, cloaked by the vast shadow cast by Mount Rainier. Yet, no matter how remote the cabin's location (and if my childhood memory served me and was still accurate, there wasn't another cabin for miles), _they_ would still find us. Therefore, I had as difficult a time understanding the urgency of heading up to the cabin as Edward had understanding why I was holding them all up. Yes, I knew we had to go, but _not yet_.

And yes, I saw the irony in the fact that just a few weeks ago, it was my career as a college professor which I found challenging and dynamic. Now, it was the only part of my life providing basic, everyday stability. The absolute truth was that if I didn't have that one usual, predictable endeavor, I feared I might explode – literally explode, with actual brain particles flying everywhere like the lava from Rena's explosion erupted over unsuspecting Pompeii. I could _almost_ understand how she'd lost control of her emotions to the point of burying herself and an entire city under ash.

The compromise then was that as soon as the quarter ended, we'd head for the cabin. In the meantime, Jasper and Emmett were contacting the immortal friends whom the three men had made throughout the ages. Some of them would meet us at the cabin as well. It was yet another event which had my father tense – and me as well. Edward, Emmett, and Jasper were _my_ vampires; I knew nothing of the others.

With the quickly approaching summer solstice, Edward wasn't the only one uneasy. Even before revealing the entire truth, Jasper sat with me once and tried to convey, in his circumspect manner, the immense importance of the summer solstice. I knew the occasion marked the day when the sun reached its zenith in the sky, the longest day of the yearly cycle. In years past, I'd hear people talk of the summer solstice as a significant day for witches and druids and such, yet I'd personally never paid it much mind.

But now, I understood that it was exactly _this_ cyclical course which made the solstice so powerful. The full potency of the most energy-dominating object in our universe would be at its highest peak on _this one day_. And now that I knew how the world really worked, I understood why that made it a day in which every living object animated by the sun would manifest its pure power. After all, I was more than an eyewitness to the fact that in between the natural layers of science and logic which governed our universe, there existed another layer. This other layer didn't follow the modern, human rules we'd established over the past few millennia, those we'd developed once we supposedly became an _enlightened_ species. Instead, this deeply burrowed layer was comprised of complicated _preternatural_ rules outside of the dominion governed by logic. It was awe-inspiring.

And it was unspeakably dangerous.

Because if every living being on the planet received its energy from the sun, then that included superhuman beings as well: vampires, shapeshifters…werewolves, _all_ manner of creature would be at its strongest on the solstice.

I could only wonder what that meant for me.

OOOOOOOOOO

On the eve of the last day of the university's spring quarter and with less than a week left before the summer solstice, four of the five of us were gathered in the sunroom, which opened onto the medieval garden below.

As one of those beings governed by preternatural rules, I'd discovered that just by pointing my tingling fingers, I could lift all manner of inanimate objects into the air and have them do my bidding. Size didn't matter. Whether these objects were as large as trucks or cars, as domestic as sectionals and glass coffee tables, as massive as concrete and iron benches or as small and insignificant as a flowerpot, fork, or a paper clip, all objects were at my mercy. Light or heavy, I could keep it suspended in mid-air indefinitely. I could twirl my fingers and rotate things slowly or quickly. I could point and pitch them away in any direction. It didn't matter whether I stood before the object I was manipulating or whether I was separated from it by a wall or a window.

There was, however, a slight problem if an _animate_ object was introduced into the mix.

If someone, whether human or vampire, sat in the car or on the chair or the couch, I couldn't lift it. If there was a living plant in the flowerpot, I couldn't lift the pot. If there was one single ant crawling on a rock, I couldn't budge the rock. And while the weather, be it rain, lightning, thunder, or the sun's rays, tended to follow my moods, it didn't necessarily submit to my command.

For example, right now, in the approaching distance, thunder rumbled like a lion just before it pounces.

"The problem is obviously an issue with manipulating living organisms," Emmett said. I turned around to where he, Edward, and Jasper sat on the sectional behind me, the sectional which I'd continuously tried and failed to lift.

"Yes, but what about us?" Jasper added. "We're not _living_ organisms."

"But we once were."

"All right," Jasper agreed, nodding slowly. "Perhaps we should amend the theory to organisms which…"

While they pondered the specifics, I returned my gaze to the garden outside where a few gray drops of precipitation landed on my dad's head as he sat on the iron bench under one of the cherry trees – the bench which I'd also failed to manipulate once my dad took a seat on it. Now, he pretended to patiently read his book in the rain while he waited, yet his eyes periodically lifted warily in my direction.

"Enough with these inane theories," Edward said, his tone clipped and impatient. "Bella makes trees bloom; she makes flowers and water dance in mid-air. She chases away clouds and invites the sun's rays. She sees visions of her ancestors' and her own past." He paused. "She has thrown shifters and vampires alike from one end to another. She _can_ manipulate all types of organisms."

"She can," Jasper agreed, "but perhaps-"

"Perhaps you should keep your-"

"Come on! Perhaps you should all just stop referring to me as if I'm not _right here_."

They went quiet. Instantly, I regretted my bitter tone and the sharpness of my rebuke. It was just another display of my inability to control myself. Squeezing my eyes shut, I allowed shame and remorse to wash over me before I reopened them and looked over my shoulder to face three of the four most important men in my life. They were trying to help me stay alive, and I was failing and using them as punching bags.

"What I am trying to say, _my lady_ ," Jasper amended carefully, making me feel worse, "is that perhaps your ability to manipulate living objects is more instinct than reason. Perhaps, it's an ability which reacts more to your perception of immediate danger for you and those whom you love than to an actual, methodical study of that danger."

I shook my head. "Instinct isn't control, and I thought the whole point of these exercises was for me to gain control of every aspect of my gift."

"Bella, I think what Jasper is saying," Emmett said carefully, "is that maybe you _can't_ control this part of your gift. Supernatural ability or not, some things are beyond our control."

My shoulders sagged, and I bit back the urge to throw a child-like tantrum. That wasn't what I wanted to hear. When I shifted my eyes to Edward, internally cringing at the thought of his disappointment, I found him staring at the wall just to the side of me, his face a chiseled, unreadable mask.

"Unfortunately, that is true," Jasper agreed, pulling my attention back to him. "Yes, your power is beyond the realm of what is considered natural, but even the supernatural has rules. Instinct, for example, is an involuntary action by all definitions. Your ability to manipulate animate objects and to manipulate aspects of nature itself are unconsciously done. You do these things outside of your awareness. You might say that this part of your gift lies within the realm of your _id._ It is pure and primitive impulse. Therefore, your conscious experiences or thoughts simply cannot manipulate this realm of your powers; rather, it is only your instinctive desire to keep yourself and those you love safe - your survival instinct, if you will, which triggers them."

As Jasper's analysis of my powers wore on, my frustration multiplied, and thunder rumbled louder and closer. Jasper quirked an eyebrow as if I'd just proven his entire theory.

"What am I supposed to do then?" I wondered miserably. "If I can't control this part of my gift…" I trailed off.

Edward remained eerily silent, but his eyebrows drew continually closer together with every sentence Jasper spoke. Now, he glared at the wall, leaning forward in his seat, shoulders stiff and rigid as he rested his forearms on his thighs and folded his hands together between them. Dropping his head, he shook it from side to side and exhaled, his entire frame radiating tension.

When in the next moment, he stood next to me, I gasped in surprise even though I should've been used to his abrupt movements, especially when he was upset. This close to me, however, I saw something deeper than disappointment darkening his pupils, something closer to anger than exasperation. Yet, when he curled his warm hands around my shoulders and held my gaze with the boundless patience and tenderness always ready for me, I knew that whatever or whoever had him frustrated, it wasn't me. And God help whoever it was.

"Now that Jasper is done with his _logic_ ," he bit out, "let's try something else."

"What else could we possibly try?" I asked.

"Close your eyes."

"Edward-"

"Just close your eyes," he repeated.

I pressed my lips together and drew in a long breath before complying. Despite the tension in his frame, Edward's voice was gentle as he spoke.

"Do you recall the first day of the spring quarter; the first time I spoke to you in your lecture hall?"

Instantly, my mind cast me back to that day, to the butterflies dancing in my stomach and the nervous twitch of my hands as I stood before my first class attempting to appear sharp and on the ball. I thought I knew essentially everything of import there was to know about the middle ages. Then a strong yet smooth voice spoke up from the darkness in the back of the room. And as my blood rushed through my veins, he began opening my eyes to the fact that I knew…almost nothing.

"Yes," I breathed simply. "I remember."

"I'd waited almost one thousand years for that moment. Suddenly, there you were, the most beautiful and magnificent being I'd ever beheld, _finally_ before me once more. But do you know what I found so strange that it was almost comical?" he asked, his voice taking on a lighter, almost amused tone. "It was the fact that, in all my centuries of waiting and in all the scenarios I conjured, never did I imagine that my long-dead heart would race as I spoke to you. Breaths I did not need to take suddenly erupted short and shallow, lending an unrecognizable quiver to my voice. My palms felt impossibly cold and clammy, and I surreptitiously wiped them on my thighs as I addressed you." He chuckled quietly. "Yet, despite the way my stomach coiled into long-forgotten knots of nerves, it was all strangely exhilarating. In that moment, I experienced the needs and responses of a man and not those of an immortal vampire. I felt human again, bound by all those human insecurities and responses that come with the territory. For the first time in almost one thousand years, I was simply a man awed by a beautiful woman, and it made me feel more…alive, _stronger_ than I'd felt in ages."

With every one of his declarations, my heart soared higher, sustained in midair as much by the love I now accepted I'd always felt for him as by those human proofs of his own everlasting love.

"You looked and sounded so composed," I murmured, eyes still closed. "I would've never guessed."

"The point is, my love," he said quietly, "our human weaknesses are sometimes our strengths. Our insecurities can be our stimuli," he whispered.

I felt the truth of his words flow from the grip he had on my shoulders into my own body. Carefully, he swiveled me back toward the window facing the garden.

"Now, open your eyes, my love," he breathed in my ear. "Open your eyes, and pick up the bench."

With the warmth of his breath caressing my face, I opened my eyes. Lifting my hand, I pointed my fingers, and the iron bench rose off the ground. Taken by surprise, my dad jerked back in his seat.

"Careful," Edward said, his chuckles tickling the fine hairs on my neck. "You don't want to drop him – although; it might be comical."

"My poor dad has been through enough," I laughed quietly. After a few seconds, I dropped my hand slowly, guiding the bench downward once more to terra firma and watching my dad pull in a few large lung-fulls of air in relief.

"Well, I guess Jasper was wrong," Emmett snorted. "Good job, Bella."

"Yes, very good, my lady," Jasper added. There was a smile in his voice. "In this instance, I'm happy to be proven wrong."

Again, Edward moved in so that his mouth hovered above my ear.

"Anyone, even the most brilliant mind or the most gifted sports player has trouble operating under the type of pressure you've faced these past few weeks. The secret of those who succeed is that once they are up on that stage, whether metaphorically or in actuality, they leave the doubts behind. They believe wholeheartedly in what they are doing." He spoke the next words loud enough for the rest to hear, his tone dry yet his mouth moving tightly. "They disregard those who attempt to psychoanalyze them with analytical drivel developed by a couple of half-wits who grew bored around the turn of the last century."

Emmett snickered, knowing full well where the comment was aimed.

"In my defense, I was _not_ bored when I helped develop those theories; however, as Sigmund is no longer around, I can't guarantee _he_ wasn't," Jasper grinned wryly. "But I understand, and I do apologize, my lady. It was never my intention to cause you to doubt yourself," he added with much more sincerity. "I'll admit I sometimes get carried away in my eagerness to reach a conclusion. Edward, I apologize to you as well for my impetuousness."

"It's all right, Jasper," I said. It would take work, but I _could_ control this aspect of my gift as well. That's all that mattered to me.

Edward, on the other hand, saw things differently. He ignored Jasper and his apology. Pressing his lips to my temple, he kept them there, stiff and rigid. I got the distinct feeling that more words would be exchanged between Edward and Jasper in the middle of the night as the humans in the house slept.

"The problem with you, Jasper," Emmett laughed, "is that sometimes you're just too damn smart for other people's good."

"I suppose," Jasper replied.

OOOOOOOOOO

That night in bed, I lay with my head resting on Edward's chest, tracing and kissing his scars sedately while I waited for my breath to return to normal. We spent countless hours this way every evening: talking, laughing, discovering…and rediscovering one another. There was an infinite amount of things to do and say and simply not enough time. No matter how hard I tried, eventually, sleep would claim me. More and more, I found myself wishing that I was already like him. He was an overflowing fountain of knowledge, of information, of a life led pursuing the most amazing endeavors of which I'd never tire of hearing. And I wanted more time to be filled by him, to feel him moving inside me, strong, vigorous and hungry for my mind, my body, and my blood. I couldn't imagine a better, more attentive, more potent lover had ever existed, and picturing an eternity of being the recipient of his tireless attention...

 _After the solstice_ , I reminded myself daily. After the solstice, we would marry, and then we'd go somewhere far away for a while, where he would change me. I'd already been warned that it would take a few years before I was ready to return to a "normal" life, but the price was worth the sacrifice. We could talk and make love forever – literally.

Sighing, I looked up and met his gaze, my fingers skimming the planes of his chest.

"Edward, why were you so upset with Jasper?"

I felt him tense. "Because as usual, he behaved like an all-knowing ass, and a thousand years of having to listen to his drivel is about my limit."

I chuckled. "He was simply being his logical, analytical self. He reminds me of me, honestly."

Edward wasn't amused. His nostrils flared, his hard chest rising and falling and lifting me upward and downward with it.

"Bella, there are times and places where logical analysis is useful and necessary, and then there are those times and places where it is merely a hindrance. He does not do it purposely, I know, but sometimes his insistence on analyzing _every minute detail_ ," he gritted through his teeth, "simply serves to plant a seed of doubt where there is absolutely no room for one." His words were slow and measured, and he simultaneously cradled one side of my head in his hand as he spoke, making his meaning abundantly clear. Still, I felt a need to defend my fellow believer in cognitive reasoning.

"It was a misjudgment, that's all."

"This close to the solstice, Bella, I have no patience for that sort of misjudgment."

I shot him a placating smile, lightly brushing my lips over his. "I understand what you're saying, but we can't ignore my limitations," I murmured against his mouth.

This time, the breath he took was much deeper, and when I pulled back, I could see his eyes darkening. "Perhaps I should say there is no room for him to sow seeds of doubt you already possess in abundance."

"Edward, let's be real. What if I can't-"

"You _can_ ," he hissed, his jaw squared irately. "Do not let your mind be clouded with doubts now! Jasper is the most intellectual one out of all of us, but intellect is _not_ the answer to everything," he insisted. "The problem with Jasper is that despite what we are, despite having lived almost one thousand years as a being who defies all logic, he is almost rigid in his belief in logic and rationality. He attributes very little to faith. Sometimes I'm amazed he doesn't doubt his own nature," he spat, raking a hand through his hair.

"Be honest; it's not Jasper with whom you're truly upset, Edward. But the truth is that sometimes, there's just no place for faith."

I felt the air – the air he didn't need – leave his lungs, and his features hardened into stone. "Yet, it is that faith, which you continue to rail against at every turn, which has sustained _me_ for almost a millennium."

"Edward, come on…" When I began to pull away, he quickly cradled my face between his hands, making it impossible for me to move.

"You do not fathom the depths of your abilities. _That_ is what kills me - that you possess all these amazing possibilities, yet it is your own self-doubt which sabotages you."

"And how do you know all my possibilities?" I asked caustically, knowing I was being a defiant bitch yet unable to stop myself. "Why are you so sure I'm so powerful, yet Jasper and Emmett obviously have doubts?"

"Emmett does not doubt you!" he snapped.

"But Jasper does."

"I told you," he said coolly, "it is that damned logic, which he refuses to relinquish."

My eyes narrowed, searching his dark eyes, so open and trusting despite his anger it was almost painful to hold his gaze. When he abruptly released my face, he curved his hands around my waist instead, keeping the top half of my body on his, keeping me from shifting away – not that I had any intention of doing so.

"Edward, how did you find me? You said the three of you lost track of Emmett's descendants for a while, so how did you find me so far from England, and so many centuries later?"

Edward's brow furrowed. This time, when he drew in a breath, a small, almost unconscious smile accompanied it.

"Sometimes, even as I hold you, even as I feel the warmth of your breath on my face, the softness of your breasts on my chest, the silkiness of your hair through my fingers…" he reached out and raked a hand through my hair, "sometimes, even as I'm cocooned inside the tight, tender heat of your core, I still cannot believe I found you," he breathed.

"I'm here, Edward." I shifted upward, my entire body covering his, his erection pressing against my stomach. "I'm here."

"I suppose it is yet another one of those things which defy logic, but which I've lived long enough not to question. Bella, I know you crave precise answers, but I don't have a precise answer for you. As I've said, it took us many years to learn to control our thirst, to control our nature as vampires. This is when we lost track of Emmett's descendants. Yet, once we gained that control, other…distracting hungers emerged."

I raised an eyebrow. "Other hungers such as?"

He mimicked my gesture and raised his own eyebrow. "I would be lying if I said lust was never present in my existence. As you know, Emmett and Jasper have sated their need for companionship throughout the ages, but I was determined to wait for you."

"But _how_ did you know I'd return? That's what I don't understand."

"I did _not_ know – not at first." He elevated his gaze to the ceiling, where his eyes took on a misty, far-away look. "When I could think like a man again instead of like…well, like a beast, I determined I would spend the rest of my existence as a tribute to you." He swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing, and his grip on my waist tightened. "Bella, I would have cut off my own _cock_ before allowing lust to get the better of me."

"Jesus, Edward," I exhaled. "A thousand years of celibacy."

Instinctively, I reached down and found the appendage of which we spoke, hard and ready as always, and I wrapped my hand around it, stroking. His eyes fluttered closed for a few moments, enjoying my touch in silence. Then breathing out through narrowed lips, he opened his eyes and continued.

"You must keep in mind how bleak the future appeared to me – it stretched out like a dark, endless ocean in which I could not even drown myself. We lived in a place and age where taking your own life was not only considered a cowardly and despicable act, but it was ingrained in us that such an action would result in eternal damnation of the soul." His eyes swept downward, dually finding mine and reaching for my hand to stop my ministrations. "I was stuck, Bella. After everything I'd done, I was ninety-nine percent sure I was already damned, almost equally certain I no longer possessed a soul, yet I could not end my own existence to join you because that would thoroughly ensure my damnation – an eternity in hell, the one place where I was positive that you…you and our child," he hissed shakily, "were not."

"Edward," I choked, my heart breaking for his loneliness.

"So, what was my other choice?" he spat. "To endure this life, this existence without any hope of _anything_. How could the heavens be so cruel? No!" he growled, now wrapping his hand around mine and moving them up and down his length almost defiantly. "A love like ours, Bella, could not have been meant to end that way."

"Why not?" I asked impetuously. "Many other love stories throughout the ages have been cut short."

He replied quickly and bluntly; almost angrily. "Yes, but in how many of those love stories has one been changed into an immortal vampire and the other descended from one of the most powerful bloodlines in existence? No. It was simply not acceptable that such was _our_ fate. So, while I attended Cambridge-"

My hand stopped, the academic in me unable to let that comment pass without further examination. "Wait, you attended Cambridge?"

"Yes." A wry smile lifted the corners of his mouth. "Jasper, Emmett, and I helped establish the university. What?" he asked at my obviously shocked expression.

"I would've personally thought you an Oxford man."

He frowned. "Regardless, that is all beside the point," he said impatiently. Then with his hand still wrapped around mine, he gave it a gentle squeeze, indicating I resume. "Unable to accept that I would never see you again, that this…nothingness was the nucleus of my existence, I threw myself into research on your family's past, anything to remain connected to you in some way. If you think researching Rena and your lineage was difficult nowadays," he snorted, "try researching during the middle ages."

"So how did you accomplish it?"

"Do not forget, time was on my side," he smirked, kissing my nose, taking a few seconds to inhale unevenly when I circled my thumb around his swollen tip, yet never losing his train of thought. "I did not need to sleep – not much, nor to rest, nor to stop for three meals a day. 'Twas all I did, and after Emmett and Jasper sated their other hungers and finally joined my venture, it was _all_ we did for years upon years. We had Lady Resmae's Bible as a starting point, and the rest, well, in time, we managed. Once I learned of the curse, Bella," he cupped my cheek in his hand, his voice shaky now as I moved my hand faster, and his hips gyrated to the same rhythm. "I knew it had to be real. My very existence was proof of it."

"How did that make you _feel_?" I breathed.

"Ecstatic. Elated," he replied with a grin, and I knew he was talking about more than just the past. "How do you think it made me feel," he echoed as if the question were inane, "to know you would someday return to me?"

"But how did you know Bellaria was the one?" I persisted. "The one of which Rena spoke."

"Because _I_ was still alive," he hissed, cradling the nape of my neck, "or as alive as my kind could be. Don't you see? At that point, all the pieces fit, so I wrote _The Verse for Bellaria_ for you. Do you not recall?"

Again, I stopped, closing my eyes and casting my memory back to the verse, to everything I'd read in my mind, in my vision at the library. Unlike him, I didn't possess the focus to concentrate on both endeavors at once; at least, not with the attention they both deserved.

"You wrote… _'I know now why I remain. I will await you, my beloved. Amor vincit omnia.'"_

When I opened my eyes and looked into his, the heat in them burned me to my core. "Love conquers all," we whispered together.

"Yes. Love conquers all. Our love conquered death itself. It was all so clear," he mused. "The rest was simply a matter of waiting."

"You waited almost five hundred years after writing that verse. I wouldn't call that simple."

"I would have waited five thousand more years," he replied easily. "I did not know when you would return to me, but I _knew_ you would, and knowing that much, I knew, in my silent heart, in my soul, whether I possessed one or not, that somehow, I would find you. Your soul needed rest, but if your fate was to return, then my fate was to find you. And I prayed for our child's soul, Bella, I did," he said with heartbreaking fervor. "I prayed that, if an afterlife existed for my kind, I would someday be granted permission to meet him or her."

"We will, Edward," I nodded just as fervently. "We will."

"But it was for _you_ whom I waited, Bella – for _your_ return."

I squeezed my eyes shut, dizzy from the strange combination of love, lust, pain, hope, and loss swirling in my head. On top of it all, the thought of such a wait as the one Edward described… _I_ simply couldn't imagine it. Try as I might, I couldn't fathom a faith so strong where I wouldn't lose my mind, and I was ashamed to admit it.

"It made sense that you would be reborn in the new world," he murmured, breaking me out of my thoughts.

My eyes popped open. "The New World? Do you mean in America?"

"Yes. Bellaria Reborn," he said carefully, knowing I didn't appreciate the name, "would be a modern woman in every way."

"There are modern woman all over the world," I pointed out.

"There are," he grinned. "I simply mean, it made sense she would hail from wherever was considered the heart of the modern world, yet as that definition constantly changed, as one civilization took that honor from another, I traveled the world. For a while, Emmett, Jasper, and I split up so that we could expand our range." He paused. "It was actually Jasper who found you first."

"Really?"

"Yes. I was in Asia at the time. He said he was not sure, yet as soon as I saw you…" He captured my mouth quickly, brushing his lips over mine with such a hungry urgency that when he pulled away, I was left gasping for air. "As soon as I saw you, I knew."

" _How?"_

Frustrated, his head shook from side to side. "Christ's love," he breathed out in exasperation, "do you still not understand? You will _not_ receive a logical answer to this question, at least not one that satisfies the linear, analytical thinker in you. I knew," he said intently, "the same way that you knew _something_ was different when you first saw me. The same way that I know, had it been the other way around, had _you_ been the one left to await my return, you would have known me. The way you see my scars. The way you feel my heat. I had faith in a fate that would not be for naught, that it was not time for our love story to end."

My heart raced – an inexplicable fear suddenly gripping my lungs and tightening them almost painfully.

Once again, I dropped my head to his chest, pondering all he'd told me, trying to make my rational, analytical side accept that the irrational… _faith_ , would have to lead the rest. When I suddenly felt the firm mattress on my back and Edward entered me quickly, I arched my body into his, soft chest to hard chest, old soul to old soul. I threw back my head against the soft pillow and sighed in equal parts relief and pleasure. And I allowed the rhythmic thrusts of Edward's love to chase away the rest of my thoughts.

OOOOOOOOOO

 _The heat of the room is stifling. It sticks to her naked body like leaches, it crawls up her skin and induces nausea as do Iakobus' rough hands when he touches her. Iakobus, who at that moment holds court in the atrium a few rooms away with his fellow beasts and the newborn daughter he proudly displays as his – the newborn child he believes bears his dark gifts…as well as hers._

 _She lifts her eyes and sweeps them across the room, past the arched opening in the wall which only ushers in humid air. The arch opens up onto the gilded city, which glimmers in the sun, and whose livelihood is sustained by the majestic, lush mountain upon whose base it rests. She pushes back the pain by focusing on the people moving languidly to and fro to markets, to bathhouses, to the forum, all unaware of what is transpiring within her walls. The gods willing, they will be too occupied to notice one lowly servant girl stealing in between the marble arches, concealed behind the round columns._

 _Panting, she pans her eyes to the frightened servant girl standing at the foot of the bed, and she struggles to speak through the agony._

" _You must never-" she throws back her head and sucks in a sharp breath as the pain splits apart her insides. "You must never speak a word of this to anyone!"_

 _The girl meets her eyes through rounded, bewildered ones of her own. "But, my lady, what will I…what will we-"_

" _You will run!" she hisses at the girl, calling up every reserve of her noble strength. "You will take it and flee across the ocean and never look back! Upon your soul, swear it!"_

" _My lady," the girl cries quietly, "I am afraid! What am I to do all alone? And what shall I do if the master should ever learn-"_

 _The pain is unbearable, but she must speak. "He will never learn! Now hear me, and fear_ _ **me**_ _! You will run and hide and never look back or by the gods it is mine whose wrath you will know!" In spite of the torture, she lifts her hand and points toward the arched opening in the wall. Outside, the light of the sun is suddenly extinguished, and a mighty roar as loud as the gods themselves fills the sky. "Swear it!" She swallows back a scream of torture, fisting the sheet with her other hand. "Swear it now!"_

" _I swear it, my lady!" the servant girl hisses, determination suddenly infusing her every feature. "I swear it! The master will never know because I will run far and never look back!"_

 _She bows her head in unimaginable relief, but only for a moment, for she cannot afford to drown in relief. When she looks up once more, her eyes fall on the mountain, now snow-covered. Instead of the gilded city, it is surrounded by a dark, rich forest and trees which almost reach the heavens. A sharp gasp escapes her._

I awoke with a gasp.

My eyes popped open to pure, unfiltered darkness, which confused me. Yet, on the heels of the confusion, I remembered. I was in Edward's window-less, sound-proof bedroom – _my_ bedroom. Breathing in and out through narrowed lips, I willed my heartrate back to normal.

"Just another dream," I said into the pitch-black room.

When I turned my head sideways, the pure darkness was broken by the alarm clock's glowing numbers. It was past three in the morning. As the foggy haze in my head lifted, I noted simultaneously that Edward wasn't in bed. Reaching up, I turned on the bedside lamp and cast my eyes about the empty room. My robe was at the foot of the bed, neatly and carefully laid out. Easing my bare legs off the side, I picked up the robe and slipped it on. Then I padded over to the dresser, where I found a folded note in Edward's elegant script:

 _Bella,_

 _If you wake, do not worry. I have gone hunting. I will return in time to escort you to class. I do hope that you will not wake and find yourself as lonely as I will be without you. Instead, sleep well, my love. However, if you do wake, know that I am…_

 _Yours, as always,_

 _Edward_

"For always," I mouthed. Sighing, I set down the note. He, as well as Jasper and Emmett, had been hunting more than usual lately, building up their strength.

All beings would be at their strongest on the solstice.

With a heavy breath, I looked up and through the oval mirror topping the dresser. I raked my fingers through my hair to undo what must've happened as I tossed and turned during the nightmare. Cartoon images from my childhood flitted through my mind of a cat sticking his finger in a socket. Edward would notice right away, and I didn't want to worry him any more than I knew he already was. Leaning in closer to the mirror, I traced the dark circles I found under my eyes. Yes, he'd notice.

After the solstice, when Edward gave me immortality, the dark circles would disappear, as would the nightmares, I hoped. And even more than that, I prayed that the fear constantly wrapped like a noose around my heart would vanish. With another sigh, I pulled back and straightened.

Bellaria glared back at me through the mirror, in her long flowing, red velvet gown, and her long, billowing hair - furious eyes locked on mine.

"You're not real," I said, shaking my head and watching her unmoving head and mouth. " _You_ no longer exist."

"Yes. I. do," she sneered, "and 'tis _I_ whom he desires at his side and in his bed _for always_."

"He is _mine_ ," we both said, our mouths now moving as one.

When she reached out and grabbed my forearm, her iron grip was rough and glacial. Lifting her other hand, she stretched out her fingers and pointed them upward. The ceiling disintegrated into black ash, spewed into a midnight blue sky broken in the distance by the smoldering, red glow of a raging inferno.

"What are you doing?" I cried in horror, but when I looked in the mirror's reflection, I saw _my_ hand lifted upward, _my_ fingers outstretched.

I screamed at the top of my lungs, tilting my head up to the sky where _everything_ suddenly morphed into burning embers: buildings, streets, the Needle, all instantly pulverized into shapeless mountains of molten rock. Hundreds…thousands of screams filled my ears. When she wrapped her arms around me, when she shook me and pulled away, my terrorized screeches intensified.

"Bella, my love, wake up! Look at me! Damn it, open your eyes, and LOOK AT ME!" Edward roared.

Still screaming, I opened my eyes and looked into Edward's terrified gaze. He cradled my face in his hands.

"Bella. Bella, are you all right? Bella, it's me. It's Edward."

"Edward…" I said, my voice hoarse and quivering. "Edward."

"Yes," he nodded fervently, his eyes in anxious torment. "Yes, it's me. I'm here." When he pulled me into his arms again, I realized we were back on the bed, naked…or…still on the bed, naked. I looked over Edward's shoulder and found…no one's reflection looming in the mirror.

I buried my face against his neck. "You didn't leave to hunt?"

" _No,"_ he replied, voice tortured and bewildered.

"You left no note?"

"No, Bella. I have not left your side all night. You were sleeping peacefully in my arms, and then you began tossing and turning, and I could not wake you. Shh," he soothed me, brushing his lips to my head, to my temple, back and forth. "Shh, it's okay. It's okay."

"I…I was dreaming."

He pulled away, deep lines of anxiety marring his forehead, the scar on his face red and bulging. "What were you dreaming, my love?"

"I dreamed of…I dreamed of a mountain, and…and I don't remember what else," I rasped, my voice thick and gravelly from the screaming. I burrowed deep into his chest, wishing I could burrow inside him the way he burrowed inside me. "I don't remember what else," I lied. And as he continued trying to soothe me with his words and his touch, I lay there in the darkness, eyes wide open, the image of a furious Bellaria ingrained between the dancing shadows.

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **Getting to the end. Buckle up. :)**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

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 **Have a good weekend. See you guys soon!**


	23. Chapter 23 - The Grand Scheme of Things

**A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts. :)**

 **Betad by Michelle Renker Rhodes. (All remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

* * *

 **Chapter 23 – The Grand Scheme of Things**

The morning of the final arrived, after the nightmares that plagued me a few hours earlier. By then, I wasn't only exhausted, but my mind was in an uproar accompanied by a pounding headache like a steel drummer going to town inside my head.

Thankfully, the lecture hall, despite its large size both physically and student-wise, was relatively silent with the class appropriately involved in the final. Under normal circumstances, this would've provided me with a perfect opportunity to think and try to decipher the previous evening's nightmares, but my brain was shot. Instead, I settled for an occasional nervous cough, a dry throat being cleared, the swishing of students shifting in their seats, the whisking of papers being shuffled, pens and pencils clicking, the tapping of fingers on thighs, and the always present vibrating cell phones going off inside nearby backpacks.

Edward contributed to none of these anxious sounds. Nimble and lithe and as quick with his mind as he was in his movements, he had no need for any of the many nervous ticks the average person displayed while taking an exam. For him, this whole process was just a front. That's all it had been from the very beginning, another act in his never-ending role as a human. This specific part had cast him as a student who was supposedly as unknown to his instructor as every other person in the room.

As I slowly paced the room from one end to the other, up and down the separate levels, monitoring the exam as well as making myself available for questions, my eyes periodically skimmed over to him. He worked with his head bowed, noiselessly tapping pen to temple and feigning concentration on a subject matter which he could've recited backward, with his eyes closed while jumping on one leg, and rubbing his flat stomach. Despite my headache, I smiled to myself at the inane image those thoughts conjured.

He'd ace the exam, of course, not that it would make any real difference in the grand scheme of things. Never mind the fact that he was taking the course as a non-matric, he had no need for it. He, Jasper, and Emmett owned a lucrative software business – one of many covers for the wealth they'd accumulated throughout the ages. Then there was the fact that once this test was over, we'd head to the cabin until the solstice. In that hidden part of Washington, we would await other immortals, so that when Jakob and his minions came looking for me, as they undoubtedly would, the vamps could destroy Jakob once and for all. After that, Edward and I would disappear for a while, and when we returned a few years later, I'd try to resume this part of my life as normally as possible.

No, this test didn't matter much in the grand scheme of things, which was, I suppose, why Edward wondered why I insisted on seeing it through to the very end. But I wanted… _I needed_ to be able to say, if only to myself, that I'd done this right, that I'd succeeded, that in spite of all the madness that had surrounded me, it was _I_ who walked away from this successful endeavor. These seemingly inconsequential human acts really were the last threads to my sanity.

Knitting my hands together behind my back, I continued strolling up and down the aisles. I wrote the time remaining on the white board in thirty-minute intervals to give the students a heads-up as to how much time they had left to complete the exam. As I set down the marker onto the podium, my phone lit up with a message.

 **Good morning, Bella. Would you mind meeting me in my office?**

It was Doctor Michaels, the dean of the Humanities Department. I'd requested a meeting with him to discuss the "family emergency," which would take me away from the university for an indeterminate period of time.

 **Of course, John. I should be done here in about an hour. How's ten?**

 **I would prefer it if you could come asap. An urgent matter has arisen, and I'd like to resolve it before the class period is over. I've sent a TA to proctor for you.**

The pounding in my head intensified.

 **Of course. I'm on my way.**

As soon as I hit _send_ , the door opened, and one of the department TAs quietly made her way over to me.

"Professor Cullen, Dean Michaels asked me to proctor," she whispered.

"Okay, thank you," I whispered back. "I should be back soon."

Making my way to the door, I looked up toward the back of the lecture hall. Edward sat in the shadows, partially hidden by the students surrounding him as well as by the dim lighting in the back, which he preferred. Nevertheless, the dim lighting made his bright green eyes stand out even more. They locked on me in question like two laser beams. I shook my head slightly to let him know it was nothing major. Then, I left the room.

Walking briskly, I turned the corner of the southeast side of the building and walked through the stairwell door leading down to the first-floor offices. Before my foot hit the first step, someone grabbed my arm and turned me around.

"Jesus, Edward," I hissed, resting a hand over my heart as he carefully pulled me away from the steps and pressed my back against the wall.

"Where are you going?"

"Do you realize you just failed that exam?" Looking over his shoulder, I scanned above and below the stairwell to make sure no one was around. "You can't get up and leave the room during a final."

"I finished the damn exam ages ago. And honestly, Bella, what difference does it make? Now where are you going?" he repeated.

"The dean wants to see me."

"Regarding what?" he frowned.

"I requested a meeting with him, remember?"

"Of course, I remember. But why is he pulling you out of the exam for that?"

"He said there was an urgent matter as well. I don't know exactly what, Edward." I knew I sounded impatient, but the game of _Twenty Questions_ was exacerbating my headache.

"Tell him you'll meet with him later."

"What? No," I snapped. "Why would I do that? _I_ requested the meeting. Besides, he's the department dean, and I already told him I'm on my way."

Edward pressed his lips into a tight line, clenching his jaw.

"Edward, come on. This is ridiculous."

He leaned in and dropped his head to my eye level. "Bella, why in the world would he ask to see you _now_ , in the middle of finals?"

"I already told you. He said something urgent has come up. I'll be right back." When I tried to circumvent him, he didn't budge. He may as well have been a wall. "Edward, he's waiting for me, and frankly, I'm worried that someone has seen us together and said something to him." Again, I checked our surroundings. Thankfully, everyone on this floor appeared to be busy with testing.

"Fine," he replied after a few moments, "but I'm coming with you."

I backed up against the wall, fisting my hands at my sides in exasperation and pinning him with an incredulous glare. "Now, how would that look? I might as well write ' _Yes, I am, in fact, sleeping with my student'_ across my forehead." I ran my thumb and forefinger across my forehead in illustration.

He quirked an eyebrow, smirking. "Is that what we're doing: sleeping together?"

"You're trying to distract me by arguing semantics, when you know that wasn't my meaning. Now, excuse me." When I tried once more to move past him, he grabbed my arm carefully yet firmly.

"Bella, I'm not comfortable with this."

The weeks of pent-up frustration, fear, and confusion, amplified by the cresting headache, all melded together into a potent mix which bubbled and spilled over in the form of the most unfortunate words.

"Edward, this is _my_ career, not yours," I hissed, digging a thumb into my chest, my face burning. "Can you at least give me this? I mean, don't you think I'm already sacrificing enough here? Can I at least keep this one part of my life _normal_?"

I regretted the vicious vitriol as soon as it hurled its way past my vocal chords. I regretted it even as it spewed forth like hot, molten lava. But as anyone who speaks before she thinks knows, there's always a bit of candor in the toxic fumes of verbal vomit. And unfortunately, once toxic fumes have escaped, it takes a whole lot of clean-up to erase their noxiousness.

Edward's head jerked back as if he'd been slapped. His eyes narrowed, and he took me in as if suddenly, he had no idea who stood before him. And that probably hurt more than any venom with which he could've countered.

I jumped up on my tiptoes and cradled his face between my hands, brushing my lips over his, but they remained heartbreakingly and startlingly unyielding.

"I'm sorry." I shook my head wildly, which simply magnified the throbbing in my temples. "Edward, I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of that. All of this is just driving me-"

He took me by the shoulders, pulling me away firmly but with all the care he always reserved just for me. Yet when he spoke, his voice was cold and implacable. "I'll wait right outside of the offices. That's as much of a concession as you'll receive."

"All right, Edward," I nodded miserably. "All right."

We walked down the stairwell side by side, his hand only lightly ghosting over the small of my back. Every one of his silent footsteps resounded in my head like a drum roll, slow and steady. I wanted to reach out to him, to fix this, but instead, we reached the first-floor landing way too soon. Edward's hand curled around the doorknob, and he leaned into my ear before pulling it open.

"I'll remain in the hallway while you're in his office."

I barely managed a nod before he opened the door.

Unlike the relatively hushed fourth floor, where most of the classes were occupied with final exams, on the first floor, staff and student body alike filled the wide-open space before me, bustling like bees around flowers. The first floor of the building was reserved for the administrative offices. On a day like today, the final full day of classes before graduation and the summer, the floor was packed.

Edward and I walked separately into the lobby. I led the way, feeling him behind me as I crossed upward to the northeastern side of the building toward the cluster of admin offices belonging to the Humanities Department. The perimeter of the hallways was constructed of floor-to-ceiling tinted windows, which looked out onto the campus grounds and filtered in the dim daylight of the morning sun. I took deep breaths as I walked, attempting to compose myself and relegate my argument with Edward to the back of my mind. I could see his tall frame reflected in the glass, following me with covert casualness. Strangely enough, I wondered who came up with the myth that vampires couldn't see their reflections. I could see his so clearly, and it wasn't due to my _gift_. He was a commanding presence. In the windows' reflection, I saw other heads, both inside and outside of the building, rubbernecking as Edward passed them by.

When I reached the door to the department's offices, I flashed my eyes up to Edward before turning the knob. Without meeting my gaze, he stopped a few short feet away, pulled out his cell phone, and began playing around with it before nodding tightly.

The left side of the department's admin area was set up with four offices in a row, one office for each of the department heads with a secretary in front fielding phone calls and directing visitors. A couple of black leather couches rested against one wall, where a few people waited. To the right were the smaller offices for teachers and adjuncts – one of which I shared with another instructor.

Dean Michael's office was the last door on the left. The secretary, a friendly woman in about her mid-forties, looked up and saw me. She smiled and covered the phone receiver resting on her shoulder.

"He's waiting for you," she mouthed.

"Thank you," I mouthed in return.

I knocked twice before opening the door. Dean Michaels sat behind his large, mahogany desk, the phone against his ear while his fingers moved on his keyboard. Looking up and spotting me, he waved me in, gesturing toward one of the two leather chairs in front of his desk. I quietly slid into one, and then waited for him to finish.

"So what are you going to do?" he asked the person on the phone.

Suppressing an impatient sigh, my gaze trailed to the wide window, covered by white plastic, vertical blinds halfway closed behind him He told me once he preferred to turn up the lights even in the morning and keep the blinds only halfway open to hide the clouds, so that he could pretend it was a bright, sunny day even when it wasn't. Through the half-open windows, I watched haggard students rush up and down the steps, in and out of the building. A few sat on the lawn and on benches, eyes intently on their laptops, cell phones, and books, soaking up the few last minutes of freedom or study-time before their examinations.

"I warned you, didn't I?" the dean chuckled into the phone, holding up one finger to me in a plea for one more minute.

Groaning internally, I nodded and smiled.

The dean was about my dad's age and looked exactly as one would expect a middle-aged Lit professor to look, down to the silver-rimmed glasses, receding hairline, graying beard, and occasional cigar, which thankfully, didn't appear to be present at the moment. He was, however, a pleasant man, who always managed to fit an amusing anecdote into every one of our conversations. Usually, they involved his daughter, who was about my age, and who'd broken his heart when she failed to go into academia like her old man. Instead, she followed a business career route.

"All right, all right. I have someone in my office. We'll talk later. All right. Bye." He sighed heavily as he hung up.

"Your daughter?" I smiled.

"Yes, my daughter," he replied, returning the smile with a roll of his eyes that made me chuckle as well as set me slightly at ease. "How are you, Bella?"

"I'm good, John," I replied, "but a bit busy now with finals."

"Yes, yes, I know," he acknowledged hurriedly and apologetically. "I hate pulling you in the middle of your final, but something has been brought to my attention. As it may affect the final itself, it couldn't wait. Let's get right to the issue at hand, so that you may return to your class as soon as possible." He offered me another smile, this one somewhat warier. The knot in my stomach retightened.

Nonetheless, I composed myself as much as possible. "Yes, thank you. I'd appreciate that."

He knit his hands together on top of the desk. "Now first, I'd like to say that we in the department have been extremely pleased with your approach and dedication to your classes this quarter, Bella. We're very impressed, and I, personally, could not be happier with you as an addition to our staff."

"Thank you, John. That means a lot. This quarter has been an amazing experience for me."

He held my gaze silently for a couple of seconds before drawing in yet another breath. "Wonderful. I'm glad to know it's been as rewarding an experience for you so far as I'm sure it's been for the students in your lecture hall. We've had great feedback."

"Again, thank you."

He swallowed and then began shuffling through the papers on his desk. Picking out a yellow manila folder, he met my gaze once more.

"Unfortunately, something peculiar has been brought to my attention." When he reached across the desk to hand me the folder, I tried to keep my hand from shaking as I took it from him. Dean Michaels continued speaking while I opened and examined the contents within.

"I received that anonymously this morning. In and of itself, it's none of this department's business," he clarified quickly while my eyes remained trained to the picture of Edward and I, back during the very early days of the quarter, sitting under one of the cherry blossom trees on campus. "However," he continued as I flipped to the picture behind the first one, which was a much more recent snapshot of Edward and I kissing in his parked Rover with the school campus in the far background, "the pictures were accompanied by an irate note naming the young man in question and claiming that he was a student in your lecture hall. The person complained of unfair treatment and threatened to take the matter up to the university board."

I squeezed my eyes shut and closed the folder at the same time. Then I looked back up at the dean.

He sighed yet again. "Before asking you to meet me, I checked the records. He _is_ one of yours, an older student, non-matric, correct?"

"Correct," I confirmed.

Dean Michaels shut his own eyes momentarily, shaking his head. When he spoke again, his tone was no longer that of a friendly colleague nor that of a pleased, supportive mentor. Rather, he was simply an administrator ready to enforce the rules.

"Bella, as I know you're aware, in a student-teacher relationship, the instructor is in a position of power over the student; thereby, he or she has a massive responsibility to keep that relationship as professional as possible. This is exactly why we have a non-fraternization policy in place."

"I'm aware, John, but-"

He cut off my reply. "Regardless of how things stand outside of the university environment, within it, _you_ are in a position of power over Mr. Masen, and the university's policy is clear on the expectations in such a relationship."

"Yes, the policy is very clear," I said quickly, moving forward in my seat. "Yes, John, there is a relationship between Mr. Masen and me, but it's a relationship which we do _not_ carry on while on university grounds."

"Regardless," he waved a hand impatiently, "the university vehemently discourages starting relationships with students. Frankly, I wouldn't have expected this of you, Professor Cullen. Why would you risk such a promising career?"

I sat stunned, realizing what it meant that we were back to formalities. "Professor Michaels, the relationship between Mr. Masen and me pre-dates my employment with the university," _by about a thousand years,_ I thought to myself, "and as I understand the policy, while relationships are discouraged, such relationships that exist prior to employment aren't exactly prohibited-"

"No, they're not _prohibited_ ," he admitted, now running a hand through his hair, "but as I'm sure you know since you've studied the policy, in such cases, the student should not be in your class. What's more, such a relationship should've been disclosed to this department upon Mr. Masen's enrollment because in such a case, _you_ are prohibited from evaluating his academic performance. My God," he waved a hand toward the door in an exasperated fashion, "your entire class's examinations could be void and may need to be disqualified. They may all need to retake this exam now!"

By this point, my headache had morphed into a full-blown migraine. Blood pounded like a vicious jackhammer between my temples. There was no way to explain that I hadn't disclosed the relationship between Edward and me upon Edward's enrollment because, at that point, I hadn't known about it myself. But I could attempt to ease his concerns on another point.

"Yes, you're correct, Professor Michaels. His work should not be evaluated by me, and I assure you, I haven't evaluated any of his work since the second week of class. It _has_ been evaluated by another professor."

His eyes narrowed dubiously. "It has?"

"Yes," I repeated anxiously. "I'll admit that I initially evaluated a couple of his assignments from the first week of class, but then realizing the conflict, I handed those assignments as well as _everything_ after that point to Professor Sinclair, the adjunct with whom I share an office. You may check with her if you'd like."

He studied me carefully, tapping a finger on his chin. "I will most likely have to do so, Professor Cullen. Did you explain to Professor Sinclair why you were asking her to evaluate the work of one of your student's?"

"I simply told her that he and I knew one another outside of class, and I wanted to avoid an appearance of impropriety. She was kind enough to assist me in exchange for my assistance with some of her workload. I was told helping one another was acceptable."

"It is, Professor," he nodded slowly, pursing his lips, "but all of this should've come through me first. You do see that, right?"

"Yes, sir," I said shakily, "I do, and I deeply apologize for my indiscretion."

The dean exhaled warily, leaning over the top of his desk and closer to me.

"Bella," he said, sounding more like the father-figure he'd sometimes resembled during our other interactions, "I hired you personally because I saw great potential in you. I know how smart a woman you truly are. This was a _huge_ lapse of judgment, and I'd hate to see it cut short a career so full of potential. But, you see how at this point, the steps you've taken are not a solution to the problem."

My shoulders rose and fell. Suddenly, I was simply bone-weary. Every single one of my bones felt like sour pudding that was curdling and liquefying. Of course, I knew he was right. I knew how unprofessional I'd behaved. Despite all the bullshit I'd spewed for weeks up to and including a few minutes ago, the truth was that since the moment Edward rushed headlong like a hurricane into my life, none of this, which once mattered so much, had been my priority - not at all.

"What do you propose then, Dean Michaels?" I asked. "I'll do anything you think might help."

He straightened, again searching thoroughly through the papers on his desk. "Let's see if we can find some guidance in the university's policies. Okay, here we go." Locating what he sought, he picked up a sheet of paper, scanned it, and with a nod, passed it to me. "This may provide us with some starting points."

 **Don't scream, don't gasp, don't breathe hard or Edward will die. I'll put you on the fastest track this institution has ever seen, give you tenure in a fraction of the normal time and have you running this department. All you must do is get up, walk out through the back door, and we will take care of the rest. Think LOGICALLY, Bella.**

Funny, how it was only then that I noticed…as much as Dean Michaels claimed he preferred office lights to the dim, Seattle daylight, the lights in the office were not on.

And no, I didn't scream. I didn't gasp. My breathing didn't intensify because I stopped breathing altogether. Every liquefied muscle in my body now congealed and froze into petrified ice. With my hands still gripping the paper, I barely managed to drag my eyes upward to the dean – or to the… _thing_ who was once the dean – before an ear-splitting impact sent plaster from the wall behind me flying in all directions and rattling the window behind the dean.

"BELLA!" Edward roared.

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **I will try to update again later this week.**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook: Stories by PattyRose**


	24. Chapter 24 - This Is Not a Fairy Tale

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your wonderful thoughts. I apologize for being unable to get back to you guys lately. RL is crazy, this cold won't leave me, and today is my little man's birthday. So, I'm updating because the weekend promises to be even crazier, and since the chappy is ready, it'll be one less thing for me to worry about!**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes. (All remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest of the craziness is mine. ;)**

* * *

 **Chapter 24 – This Is Not a Fairy Tale**

Upon Edward's furious roar and the fracture of the wall behind me, a few things happened instinctively and simultaneously.

Jumping from my chair, I cast a hand high in the air and splayed my fingers wide. As I pointed them toward the Thing, who was once my dean, their pads vibrated wildly as if flames of blue fire licked at every one. At the same moment, the Thing who was once the dean lunged over the desk and seized my hand, crushing it within his beefy one. I pitched up my other hand, and he grabbed that one as well. For a fraction of a second, we held one another's gazes before he tackled me to the floor, landing on top of me and behind the desk, ensuring that we were hidden from outside view. Every last breath of air was suddenly chased out of my lungs.

"No, no, no. I've heard all about your mystically misbehaved hands," the Thing hissed. As I struggled to free myself, he grappled them above my head and pinned them to the wood floors while I flailed around like a fish out of water, desperately gasping for air.

"Get off of me!" I finally managed to rasp. But the Thing was a large man, and the strength with which he overpowered me was beyond human.

Meanwhile, literal havoc seemed to have exploded from the other side of the wall. Objects crashed and shattered, grunts and screams filled the air, and yet more objects slammed against the fractured wall.

"BELLA!" Edward howled.

"Edward! Edward!"

By this point, my entire head pounded as if a furious jackhammer drilled through it. My trapped frame thrashed with impotent fury, and once again out of pure instinct, I lifted my head up toward the ceiling and opened my mouth.

The thunderous scream that expelled itself from my battered lungs was so shrill and piercing that the entire room appeared to have been hit by a seismic tremor. Cracks rose in a zig-zag pattern along the white walls. The vertical blinds shook and fell from the window, exposing a darkening sky where thunder rolled and roared in the distance, melding and disguising my screams. A flash of lightning streaked across the pumice clouds.

"EDWA-"

"None of that, either."

In a flash, the Thing trapped both of my hands within one of his, and with the other, he grabbed a fistful of the hair at my crown. Using it as a lever, he lifted my head a few inches before slamming it back down on the wood floors once, twice, and then three times.

The rest of my screams dimmed…and...

"BELLA!"

"Ed-" I whimpered weakly before the Thing clamped a hand over my mouth.

"BELLA! Bella, I'm coming!"

The wall behind me throbbed and palpitated like a concrete heart. The Thing glanced at it briefly before dragging his eyes back to me. His ensuing whispers were delivered with urgent speed.

"It's one against many out there. Now, he may break through or they may finally rip out his dead heart; there's no way to know which way it will go this close to the solstice. Shh, relax, Bella. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you," he cooed, believing my whimpers were due to the pain radiating like a wave in my skull, "but you must listen and listen carefully. Don't fear us as he's taught you. We _revere_ you, Bella."

The wall behind me cracked and splintered with what sounded eerily like one body after another crashing against it. Tears of agony stung my eyes every time Edward called out for me, and I failed to reply.

"Here's the heart of the deal, Professor Cullen," the Thing rushed. "A _child,"_ he grinned, "a flesh and blood, beautiful child of your own, which is something _he_ can never give you, but Jakob…can. That's all, plain and simple, no bells or whistles, and no hidden agenda. A baby and a _real_ family of your own. So what do you say to that, Professor?"

With extreme care, the Thing lifted its hand from my mouth.

"Fuck you! I don't want Jakob's monster baby! Edward, I'm-"

Again, the thing gagged my mouth, snuffing my attempt to reassure Edward.

"BELLA!" This time, my name was followed by another sound…a groan…Edward's groan.

Tears streaked down my face. " _Please,_ " I begged, barely able to move my mouth with the thing's paw pressed unyieldingly over it. "Please don't hurt him."

Despite the muzzle, he seemed to understand me. "Bella, you can still save Edward while at the same time ensuring the continuation of your own bloodline. What has he been telling you, that we're monsters, that your child with Jakob would be a _monster_? _We_ aren't the monsters, Bella. We're flesh and blood, just like you. You and Jakob's child would be the most wonderful, powerful, beautiful, and warm-blooded mortal being this world has seen since…well, since a distant relative of yours walked the earth."

I shook my head as violently as possible despite the confining hold he had and the throbbing headache. My reply was stifled but clear. "No!"

"No, don't say no yet," he urged, shaking his head as well, jamming his palm down even harder. "This is too important for you to dismiss out-of-hand. I know it's hard with all the current distractions around us, but think about this. Picture this: you would be a _mom_ , Bella," he stressed softly, "and you would be responsible for a chubby-cheeked little one, who would love you unconditionally, who would look up to you, whose entire life would revolve around you, and whose education and well-being would be completely in your hands. _Your_ baby, Bella," he crooned gently, "would be your little person to mold into whatever type of person you wanted him or her to be: the most skilled doctor, the most erudite scientist, or the kindest humanitarian - _anything_."

Trapped inside his hand, my fingers again began thrumming with the now familiar tingle and burn. All the while, the battle on the other side of the wall raged. A loud clap of thunder suddenly exploded, much nearer than before.

"I'm running out of time, aren't I?" the Thing sighed. "Bella, you're a powerful being, and Jakob respects you immensely. He respects your mind, and he respects the might of your bloodline, even though Rena buried him under ashes for centuries-"

Unable to actually speak, the shock must've been evident in my features.

"You didn't know that? Hasn't your vampire told you? You see what I mean?" he asked as if he'd somehow proven a valid point. "He only tells you what _he_ thinks you need to know, as if you're a child or a _pet_. That's all he considers you. That's all his kind consider all humans: entertaining little pets with which to pass the laborious hours of their existence. Meanwhile, it is _they_ who are the beasts! _They_ are dead creatures, who only play at being alive. Think about it. They bleed black gore," he said, his tone full of disgust. "They have no bodily heat, no need for human sustenance, for sleep, for conversation, or for clothing. Their entire existence is a mockery, and if you were to strip away all the lies they present, all that would be left would be cold creatures who feed on blood," he spat.

The tingling in my fingers intensified.

"What has he told you to convince you, Bella, fairy tales about true love? Come on, you're smarter than that," he smirked. "This isn't a fairy-tale, and you're not a love-sick maiden from the middle ages. You, Professor Cullen, are a modern-day, highly-intelligent, and highly-educated woman."

The wall behind us palpated and vibrated yet again. Splintered bits of drywall fell to the floor. Once more, the Thing flashed his eyes upward. When his attention returned to me, his eyes were pure black, but not the way Edward's irises darkened when filled with lust or fury. No. The Thing's entire eye socket was the color of tar, pupils, irises and eyeballs indistinguishable from one another.

The rest of his diatribe spewed forth at lightning speed.

"Think, Bella! Rena's curse will _not_ weaken Jakob on the solstice. What's more, we have numbers on our side. Your leeches are fighting a losing battle. Besides, what do you think Edward will do in the very unlikely scenario that you do succeed in killing Jakob? Do you truly believe he'd change you into one of his kind and keep you for an _eternity_? If so, why hasn't he already changed you? I'll tell you why. Because Edward's kind only have one purpose: the total annihilation of our kind. You're simply a pawn to him, a means to an end, while to Jakob, you are a goddess personified, and the only woman he wants as the mother of his child." His nebulous gaze bored into mine. "Be logical, Bella. Fall back on the analytical mind which has always served you, and you'll see that all I'm saying is true. Don't allow your decision to be based on lies used to manipulate your heart. Use your head as you've always-"

Just then, the wall behind me completely disintegrated with a thunderous rumble that resonated throughout the entire perimeter. Gray particles of debris and dust streamed in and floated everywhere. The Thing looked up, and suddenly, his entire face changed…morphed, transformed into the face of the man I'd met at the rooftop club all those weeks ago.

 _It's great to meet you, Bella._

 _Yes, you too, Jake._

Jakob.

"Leech," the Thing sneered, and releasing me, he bared claws and lunged.

"No!" Hands finally free, I lifted them above me and caught him mid-air, keeping him floating like a kite for a couple of seconds before slamming him against the wall next to the shattered window.

"Bella!"

I kept him pinned there even as Edward pulled me into his arms, crushing me against his chest before he held me at arms-length just as quickly.

His eyes were…red and wild. Blood streaked his face, outlined the perimeter of his mouth, and dripped from his lips. Chest heaving, he cradled my head before I could examine the rest. Then he skimmed his hands down my body, squeezing and patting me – shoulders, arms, torso, legs – examining me all over. A frenzy of fear and tension radiated off him in waves. Meanwhile, I inspected him as well as I could. There were rips and tears, which resembled claw and bite marks, in his clothing. Through the rips and tears…a substance oozed from his torso.

"Edward, what did they do to you?" I cried in horror.

"Shh," he cooed. "Your head is bruised. Are you hurt in _any_ other way?"

I shook my head mutely.

"Christ above, thank you," he breathed raggedly before cradling my face once more.

It was then that I caught sight of his left ear, which was missing the top half.

"Oh God, your ear," I said in a strangled whisper.

When I reached up, he took my hand and wrapped it within his own. "It will heal. It will all heal, Bella. Christ's love." He sounded equal parts relieved and petrified, his voice thick and hoarse.

The loud murmur of voices outside broke us from one another as groups of people slowly and hesitantly moved closer the broken window. They pointed fingers and cell phones. Some of them already had their cell phones to their ears, stage-whispering while milling about. Not quite sure what was happening, some ran into the building while others ran out of it. All eyes were wide, but from their angle, the Thing still pinned to the wall wasn't visible.

And in the distance, the whirl of police sirens joined the rapidly escalating mayhem.

"Your options are dwindling away more and more by the second, Bella. Damn, you're almost as stubbornly blind as his wife, aren't you?"

Edward dragged his now murderous gaze to the thing pinned to the wall like a backward spider. He took a step toward it, hissing as he bared his teeth.

"Edward, we have to go!"

"What are you going to do, kill me in plain view of everyone watching and filming?" the Thing sneered. "You've already ended her career - along with her bloodline if she continues to insist on choosing you. Do you want her to end up with a starring role on America's Most Wanted as well?"

"Edward," I pleaded as the sirens drew closer. Through the window, I could see campus security rushing toward the building, and I grabbed Edward's stiff arm. Yet, he wouldn't budge.

"You filthy mongrel," Edward seethed through clenched teeth. "I will leave you alive, but only so you may deliver a message to your _master_ ," he snarled. "Let him know this: I have erred twice now. There will be no third time. He will _never_ touch my wife!"

The Thing frowned. "Is that what you're making her believe, that she's actually your wife?"

"I _am_ his wife, and I'll never be Jakob's anything! Deliver _that_ message!"

"Wait, is _that_ what you believe?" it asked, appearing shocked.

Now, it was Edward who took hold of my arm. "Bella, let's go!"

"He's lying to you, Bella," the Thing said. "Everything he tells you is a lie."

"It. Is. NOT!" I yelled, lifting my hands skyward.

At that moment, a flash of lightning struck one of the trees on campus. As it exploded and fell over, the people outside the window dispersed and ran in all directions, screaming, dropping their phones, their backpacks, and all their belongings.

"Bella, no!" Edward yelled.

The Thing chuckled and continued calmly. "You know, many people throughout the ages have been able to minimally control the elements, just like you. So what is it? Is it because you look like her? Because you have a similar affliction in your hands as did Bellaria, as did more than one of her ancestors?"

My fingers curled inward. When they unfurled and pointed, another bolt of lightning flashed across the blackened sky, smashing into the earth mid-lawn, mid-campus. Cries of terror and panic filtered in through the window, and the remaining walls around us began to crumble.

"Bella, my love, you must stop!"

"What is it? Can't you actually control your powers?" the Thing taunted. "You see, Bellaria, had she lived long enough for her powers to manifest, would've had no problem controlling them, because _she_ was meant to be the chosen one. But _you_ are not her, Bella. You are merely a descendant and not even a direct one since she died before she could leave a direct descendant. But you are close enough for Jakob's purposes."

"I…" I heaved furiously, "I'll destroy you all!"

"Really? Show me," it snarled.

When I lifted my hands once more, Edward forced them down.

"Bella, no! Let's go! Do not listen to him, and LET'S GO!"

"What's wrong? Can't you do it? Bella, do you know exactly what Rena did? Rena saw more than just the past, she saw the future! She cursed more than one bloodline! She made a fucking volcano _erupt_ and destroyed an entire city, burying it under tons of ash and lava before wiping it off the face of the earth! Did you know that the eruption changed the geography of the planet by pushing back the coastline a few yards? That is what Rena could do, and the chosen one was supposed to be even more powerful than she was!"

" _I'm_ the chosen one! I'm Rena's descendant! I'm-"

"You're a powerful sorceress, a descendant of the bloodline, yes, but only as a descendant of Bellaria's _brother's_ line. Bellaria was to be born and reborn from women. Do the math, Bella Cullen. _You_ are not Bellaria Reborn."

All the air in my lungs expelled itself in a dizzying rush. My hands fell to my sides as if abruptly released by a tired, bewildered puppeteer in the sky. Even as the shrieks and shouts outside continued, the thunder's rumbles grew fainter and retreated. Everything suddenly made perfect, logical…and horrible sense.

"Bella, do not listen to his lies," Edward hissed. "Do not allow him this power over you!"

"I'm curious, Edward. Are you lying to yourself too or just to her?" the Thing who was once Dean Michaels asked. Then, it sucked in its teeth, shaking its head – the only part of its body that it could move. "Poor Bellaria, above in heaven or below in hell, enduring an eternity with the heartbreaking knowledge that she died for the love of her husband. Yet here he is, her knight-in-shining-armor, her Edward, son of the mason, who only needed one of her distant kin, who happened to look like her, to make him happy. Her faithful husband, who couldn't even keep his cock in his-"

Edward lunged. In the next moment, Dean Michael's head and torso fell in two separate pieces to the once-immaculate wood floor. Two separate and distinct thuds marked his second…and final end.

Edward then turned around, facing me. Chest heaving and hands dripping blood, he looked at me for a few moments through dark, crimson eyes. I vaguely noted that the missing part of his ear had already grown back and that the black ooze appeared to have dried up and…disappeared.

In a blinding flash, he held me cradled in his arms as he jumped over the rubble which was once a window and onto the devastated campus lawn, where everyone appeared to have fled in fear.

Then, he ran.

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook: Stories by PattyRose**

 **See you guys next week. Have a great weekend. :)**


	25. Chapter 25 - Manhunt

**A/N: Thank you so much for all your wonderful thoughts. I know we've been off schedule lately, but RL has been crazy!**

 **Also, I know some of you still have questions. I hope they will all be answered in these last few chapters, but if they're not, we can certainly discuss them. :)**

 **Betad by the wonderful Michelle Renker Rhodes. (All remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

* * *

 **Chapter 25 – Manhunt**

The voice on the car radio spoke in an urgent tone.

" _Reports are still pouring into the newsroom, but as of now, we do have confirmation that a massive attack occurred just a short while ago on the main campus of the University of Washington. We've also confirmed several casualties inside one of the buildings; although, the exact nature of the attack, as well as the precise number of casualties, are still unknown. Eyewitnesses claim that the entire area is a disaster zone, and rather bizarrely, that as the attack was occurring, the campus was simultaneously hit by multiple lightning strikes. Initial accounts point to one or possibly two suspects, but the specifics on these individuals as well as their whereabouts are still unverified. The entire area has been closed off by the city's SWAT team, and we're now being told that a major police manhunt is underway for a white male, approximately-"_

Edward reached over and switched off the radio. Yanking open the glove box, he pulled out a cell phone and moved his blood-stained thumb furiously over the keyboard. All the while, his gaze remained fixed on the windshield. Outside, a torrential rainfall pounded the car's exterior, washing the streets through which we raced with gray, distorted globules that made everything seem like objects out of a twisted dream When his thumb stopped moving, he closed his fist around the phone. A second later, he reopened it and allowed the fistful of black dust to fall on the car's floor.

"Where are we going?" I kept my eyes on the windshield as well, yet out of my periphery, the red smudges and blemishes staining his face stood out like fiery flames.

At odds with everything else, the handful of seconds before his response seemed to crawl. "We're leaving Seattle."

"I have to speak to my dad."

He gave no response to my statement.

"Edward, I have to make sure my dad is okay."

"Christ's love, Bella." The words erupted from between gritted teeth, and his hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles appeared ready to break through his skin. "I just texted Emmett so that he, Jasper, _and_ your father would know to meet us at the cabin. I would not leave him behind."

I remained silent, too physically and emotionally bewildered to argue with him while he sped us through rain-soaked streets, away from the mayhem happening at the university. Instead, I threw back my head, squeezed my eyes shut, and pressed my lips together to clamp down the scream bubbling like acid in my throat. At the same time, I attempted to block out the mental images of the man who was once my mentor lunging for me, of the sound of Edward's howls as he yelled my name, of black blood oozing from his torso, of the missing piece of his ear, and of everything that Thing said before Edward tore off its head. Yet it all circled my mind like a thousand hungry vultures ready to strike.

 _This isn't a fairy-tale, and you're not a love-sick maiden from the middle ages._

 _Why hasn't he already changed you?_

 _Be logical, Bella…you are merely a descendant and not even a direct one._

 _Do the math, Bella…you are_ _ **not**_ _Bellaria Reborn._

 _Are you lying to yourself too or just to her?_

 _Be logical, Bella…you are merely a descendant and not even a direct one._

 _You are_ _ **not**_ _Bellaria Reborn._

 _Are you lying to yourself too or just to her?_

 _Are you lying to yourself too or just to her?_

 _Why hasn't he already changed you?_

 _Be logical, Bella…_

 _Be logical, Bella…_

When the passenger-side door suddenly swung open, I almost choked on a wild gasp before I realized it was Edward. Wordlessly, he reached in and cradled me in his arms before lifting me out of the car. Then he stood me on the wet ground a few feet away, holding my forearms as I steadied myself. I looked up and met his eyes, as dark as black ice and as equally hard and unfathomable. His features seemed chiseled out of stone, red paint running down marble as the rain, which was no longer a downpour but a steady shower which washed away the remaining blood on his skin and clothing.

"Where are we?"

"We're outside city limits. It's safer to get rid of the car and proceed the rest of the way through the forest."

Dragging my eyes away from his, I saw that the car was pulled onto the grassy shoulder of a two-lane road surrounded by lush greenery and nothing more.

"On foot?" I asked, warily scanning the thick darkness that encroached and seemed to reach out like a claw from beyond the trees.

He followed the trajectory of my gaze and nodded. "Yes. We can cut through the woods and make better time that way."

A vague thought occurred to me about how we weren't normal beings running from other normal beings. Edward on foot through the woods was far faster and more discrete than a car on a winding, roundabout road. What's more, those hunting us – not the SWAT or the police, but those _hunting_ us – would be led by their olfactory senses, like wild, feral dogs on the foxes' trail.

Sweeping my eyes back to Edward, I found his dark gaze fixed on me. As we took one another in, I wondered what he saw. Regardless, I didn't have much time to ponder the question because, in the next moment, he was no longer standing in front of me, but by the car.

"We have to hurry." Swiftly popping open the trunk, he pulled out a long piece of black tarp and a backpack, both which he hefted over his shoulder as he walked toward me with a quick but much more controlled stride. I got the distinct feeling the slower pace was on purpose, playing at being human for my benefit, to keep me from completely losing my mind – just as the dean suggested.

As soon as that last thought crossed my mind, shame burned through me like wildfire, and I visibly cringed under the weight of it. Thankfully, Edward missed the moment as he deposited the items from the truck between us. Then, he met my eyes once more.

"I need you to cover your ears."

"Why?" I frowned, confused as he sprinted back to the car.

"Cover them now, Bella."

I did as he said, watching his broad shoulders rise and fall on a deep breath before he lifted a fist and brought it down unflinchingly and blindingly fast on the Rover's immaculate hood. Despite the warning, the loud and sudden impact followed by the sharp, shrill sound of windows shattering and steel grinding and bending, pounded in my eardrums. The vibration echoed and rolled through the forest like a wave of thunder, making my breath catch in my throat. I barely managed to push my palms deeper against my ears before he brought up his other fist and repeated the action. This time, the hood buckled completely, falling level with the tires, which popped and blew out with a rush of whistling air.

No, apparently, he wasn't playing human anymore.

Over and over, from every angle, Edward's fists pounded the Rover, warping and twisting the metal, compressing it into a pancaked piece of scrap. He picked up what was once the hood of the car and bent it backward like cardboard, folding it over the trunk. In a handful of minutes, what was once a car became nothing more than a steel cube.

But Edward wasn't done. Kneeling on the wet grass, he dug his fist deep into the ground. The earth under me rattled and shook, and using his hands as shovels, Edward pulled out mounds of dust and rock. As quickly as he'd compressed his car, he made a hole about six feet deep and eight feet wide, into which he dropped the steel cube. After replacing the earth, he patted it down once more until it was level with its surroundings, and then he covered it with fallen branches and bracken.

Ridiculously enough, it was the disappearance of the Rover under six feet of mud that caused my tears to finally spill. Edward wiped his hands on his destroyed pants, and when he looked up and saw my tears, he closed the distance between us.

Gripping my waist gently between his powerful hands, he comforted me with shaky whispers and warm lips brushed against my forehead. No, he wasn't human. But for me…he would act like one.

"Shh. It'll be fine, I promise you. Shh." He pulled back to look at me and pushed a few strands of wet hair off my face, his thumb tenderly stroking my cheek. "Shh."

"I'm okay," I nodded, swallowing despite the dryness in my throat and pushing away the tears as I drew in a deep breath. "I'm okay. It's just a waste of a great car."

He scrutinized me through his dark, unreadable eyes before nodding as if he agreed. Then he dropped his head to my eye level.

"Bella, we're going to need the downpour to return. It'll disguise both our scent and our footprints."

"I'll do my best."

He quirked a brow while releasing a meaningful sigh of his own as he bent and picked up the backpack, leaving the tarp on the ground. When he spoke, he was once more completely in control.

"The tarp will protect you from the elements as we run."

"Okay, and what's in the backpack? A gun?"

"Guns won't hurt them. I don't believe they're following us, but should we encounter them, there's an ax in the backpack. Try to take off their heads; it's the quickest way to kill them."

I swallowed back the thick bile in my throat while a few concurrent thoughts raced through my mind: _He_ didn't need the ax. His bare hands would do the trick. Also, severed heads ended shifters while ripped hearts ended vampires, and…and _I_ needed an ax because I couldn't be trusted with my gift.

"Now bring back the downpour, Bella."

Squeezing my eyes shut, I cleared my mind as much as possible. A few seconds later, the rain pelted harder against my face and body, yet a couple of seconds after that, I felt nothing. When I reopened my eyes, I was inside a tarped layer of darkness, cocooned once again in Edward's arms. As he raced us through the forest, his hold was steady and fixed and had I been able to feel, I would've felt like I was floating.

OOOOOOOOOO

Surrounded by a forest full of red cedars, firs, pines and spruces which hid it from the world beyond, my father's cabin had always been a secluded retreat. When I was very young, we would come together, and my dad would sit with me in the meadow and tell me stories of the few times that the three of us – he, my mom, and I – spent here before her sickness took her away. The cabin sat at the base of a string of mountains known as the _Ring of Fire_. However, despite the name, the weather was rarely hot; instead, it was just as likely to snow in May as it was in December.

There were days, regardless of the time of year, when I would awaken in the morning and look out of my small window only to find freshly fallen snow that matched the majesty of the snow-covered peak of Mount Rainier just above us. Then there were days when the sun would break through the clouds ringing the mountain peaks. On those days, I'd sit in the meadow surrounding the cabin and close my eyes, allowing the rays' warmth to flood my entire body.

As Edward raced through the forest, I felt the air grow cooler, and I found myself wondering whether I had ever been responsible for those rays. I also wondered why I'd stopped going to the cabin with my dad, except now I knew why. It was because, with him unsure of how to handle a preternatural stepdaughter, and with me resentful of a father whom I thought simply wanted to control me, he and I had grown apart.

A piece of a dream from a few nights ago replayed itself in my mind, of a snow-capped mountain erupting in the distance.

These were the thoughts used to distract my racing mind as I lay cradled in Edward's arms, warm despite the cool air I knew surrounded us. The entire time, my heart raced almost as fast as Edward's legs with the fear of being encountered by shifters.

When we arrived at the cabin, I realized that once again, he was right. A car ride to the cabin would've taken another hour and a half. Instead, we arrived in about half that time. And as we broke through the lush forest and arrived at the clearing where the cabin awaited, Edward pulled the tarp off of me and set me down. The rain had ended…or I'd ended it. Either way, in its wake, was left a gray mist that permeated the open meadow surrounding the cabin and hid the mountains from view.

He rubbed my arms. "Are you okay? I should've thought to bring a jacket for you."

"I'm fine," I assured him. "Thank you."

He nodded and took my hand in his. "Come, let's go inside. They're waiting anxiously for us."

As soon as we walked through the door, my father crossed the small room and wrapped his arms around me.

"Bella, thank God," he breathed.

Yes, we'd grown apart, but now, we were back together.

"I'm alright, Dad."

As soon as he pulled away, Emmett enveloped me in his arms and kissed the top of my head.

"Bella," he whispered, releasing a long breath.

I felt Jasper carefully wrap a hand around my arm. "My lady, thank goodness."

"I'm fine," I assured them. My dad's eyes shifted away from me, growing wide when they fell on Edward.

"Jesus, what in the world happened?"

"They got to the dean of the department," Edward replied. "He accosted Bella in his office. He _hurt_ her," he scowled through a clenched jaw.

"Damn it." My dad stretched out his hand as if to examine me, but I stepped out of his reach.

"I'm okay," I repeated, feeling my impatience grow.

"How many were there?" Emmett asked.

"A couple of dozen. I took care of them. I had no choice, I had to get to her."

"Thank you," my dad breathed shakily.

Emmett nodded vehemently, fisting his hair. "God, I wish I'd been there," he seethed, slamming a fist into his palm. "Alright, well, we've spoken to the rest, and they'll meet us here between tonight and tomorrow morning."

"Good," Edward said. "We have to finalize our game plan."

"How about your powers, my lady?" Jasper asked. "Were you able to test them against the mongrels?"

The silence before Edward answered for me was suffocating.

"Yes. Yes, she was able to fight off the dean. He…took her by surprise, so she was nervous, but she was able to-"

"Don't make excuses for me, Edward. I failed. I failed because I'm not _her_."

In the next instant, Edward stood in front of me, nostrils flaring. He dropped his head to my eye level and met my gaze squarely and unflinchingly. When he spoke, his words were slow and measured, laced with barely suppressed fury. "Yes. You. _Are_."

"I'm not, but what I want to know is whether you've known it all along or whether-"

"What did I tell you the other night?" he spat. "Do you truly believe I wouldn't know you? I wouldn't _sense_ you-"

Everything after spilled out in a heated exchange which apparently neither one of us could hold back any longer.

"Then you're lying to yourself just like that monster said!"

His eyes grew wide, and he reeled back as if I'd struck him. "You'd believe the lies a demon from hell spewed over me?"

"Why didn't you deny it then?" I demanded shakily. "When he was saying those things, why didn't you deny any of them?"

"I didn't deny what he said because unlike you…" he hissed through his teeth, his face so close to mine I could feel his warm breath on my lips, "unlike you, I had no goddamn intention of giving him exactly what he wanted, which was to rattle us both with his FUCKING BULLSHIT!" With every ensuing word, his voice grew louder and fiercer. "But _you_ …that monster accomplished exactly what he set out to do – which was to fertilize seeds of doubt already within you!" He shook his head wildly. "And you made it so goddamn easy for him! _I_ didn't answer him," he continued indignantly, digging a thumb into his chest so hard I stupidly feared he'd hurt himself, "because I _know_ who you are, but I wasn't about to assure him of that! I wasn't about to assure him that the prize which they've coveted for two thousand years was indeed standing in the middle of the room doubting herself!" he howled.

I looked around frenziedly at the three men surrounding us, each sporting his own stunned expression – eyes wide with shock, incredulity…and sympathy.

"Jakob senses everything his pack senses, so by you displaying your self-doubts so openly to one of his minions, you've just-"

I fisted my hair in both hands, threw my head up to the wood ceiling, and screamed.

Pictures of my childhood framed the walls – my mom standing proudly with me on my first day of school, me riding my bike on two wheels for the first time, Carlisle standing rigidly yet proudly at my side during my high school graduation. As the piercing sound erupted from my mouth, they all fell from the walls, the glass and frames cracking and splintering the way the Rover broke under Edward's hands. A jagged line ran up along one of the walls. The sparse pieces of wooden furniture surrounding us shook.

"That's right! Get angry!" Edward fumed, undaunted by my display. "Throw a fucking tantrum! Knock everything down with the force of your fury! Tear down this entire damned forest, and tear out my heart over and over by eternally doubting _us_ if you must, but STOP DOUBTING YOURSELF! ACCEPT WHO YOU ARE! ACCEPT THAT YOU ARE BELLARIA REBORN, AND YOUR GIFT WILL COME TO YOU FULL FORCE!"

"It will never come to me full force because it doesn't fit! I don't descend from the female bloodline!"

He wrapped his hands around my face, his eyes wild. "Then disregard that part of the legend, because you are Bellaria!"

As suddenly as my self-righteous-fueled rage had ignited, it left me in a rush as I heard the desperation in his tone. He wanted so badly to believe I was his long-lost wife. He _needed_ to believe it.

"Edward, you can't say the legend must be interpreted literally in one breath, and then when it doesn't suit you, when it doesn't suit _us_ , simply choose to interpret it at your whim on the next breath. We can't disregard it," I choked, cradling his stony face. "You've betrayed her, and I'm sorry, but I don't care because _I_ love you with all my heart and soul," I sobbed. "But you've betrayed her with me, and that's why she haunts me."

"What are you talking about?" he asked with obvious exasperation.

"I see her in my dreams," I admitted. "She haunts me, Edward. She abhors me for being with you."

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut for a few seconds. When he reopened them, his darkened pupils were rimmed in frustration. And when he spoke, he sounded more tired than I'd ever heard him sound.

"Bella, my love, what can I say to make you see you _are_ Bellaria? _I_ know you are, but it must be _you_ who believes. What tortures your dreams are your own self-doubts manifesting themselves, just as it is your lack of faith in your abilities keeping you from the full power of your gift, keeping you from fulfilling your-"

"Damn it, Edward!" I shook off his hands, and he stood there, gaping at me. "Why can't you just accept that faith has no place here? Why can't you just accept _me_?"

I stepped back from him, from all of them who stood around taking me in as if I'd finally… _finally_ lost my mind. Then I turned around, threw open the door, and ran out into the misty forest.

OOOOOOOOOO

Of course, I wasn't left alone for too long. Within a matter of minutes, footsteps crunched the broken leaves behind me, approaching slowly where I sat under one of the forest's majestic trees. I knew it wasn't Edward. By that point, I could differentiate his walk, his breaths – no matter how unnecessary they were…the way his proximity sent the blood in my veins racing, even if I wasn't his long-lost wife.

"You behaved this way – impetuous, pig-headed, stubborn – when you were Bellaria as well. Sometimes, you were downright hurtful."

"She sounds like she was a major bitch," I said, keeping my back to him. "I don't understand why he misses her so much. And _this_ is more involved than my simply throwing a tantrum."

Emmett was quiet for a while. "That major bitch of whom you speak was my sister…and _is_ you. Yes, sometimes you were a jealous bitch - with those you loved, you were very jealous. I agree with Edward; it's this inane belief you have that you and Bellaria are two separate entities which makes you so jealous of her."

"Emmett…" I dropped my head and sighed, "do you really believe I'm her or are you just going along with Edward?"

There was a harder edge to his voice when he replied. "Bella, I have always loved and respected Edward as a brother and as a friend, but I have my own mind. If I didn't believe you were Bellaria, I would say so."

"Jasper doesn't believe." I lifted my head and stared out toward the mountains on the horizon, their peaks invisible under the cover of clouds. "I think he simply doesn't say so because he doesn't want to hurt…or upset Edward."

"He and Edward have had…discussions about it," Emmett admitted.

I rounded on him, taken aback by his frankness.

He shrugged his massive shoulders. "I'm not here to sugarcoat things, Bella. Jasper is a good man, a great man whom I also love and respect deeply. The thing with Jasper, however, is that in his human life, he never had a need for faith, not the way Edward and I did."

"There's a place for faith, Emmett, and there's a place for logic," I replied sadly. "I think…the problem is that Jasper is the only one separated from the situation enough to look at it logically."

He shook his head, smiling softly. "And I think it has nothing to do with Jasper being separated from anything, but rather it's because Jasper never loved and lost a woman the way Edward and I have loved and lost. It doesn't make him less of a…man," he smirked. "But, I believe it makes it harder for him to have that same faith on which Edward and I have staked our sanity all these years. That type of love and loss, sister, either takes away every last bit of your humanity…or it gives you a reason to hope. It instills you with faith that someday, you will be with that loved one again. Logic and analysis have nothing to do with it. So Edward sees you, and he more than sees you, Bella; he _feels_ you."

"Then why doesn't-"

"Don't question it, Bella."

"How can I not?" I asked hotly. "You're asking me to believe something on faith alone. That's not how I operate."

"See, that's the problem," he chuckled, moving in closer. "Bella, we're thousand-year-old vampires. You're a reincarnated sorceress. We have an ancient, shapeshifting werewolf on our tail. Out of all this, you stop to question the one thing which shouldn't be questioned: Edward's knowledge that _you_ are the only woman he's ever loved."

I pressed my lips together. "I want so badly to just agree with you, Emmett, but…"

He sighed, remaining silent for a couple of minutes. "Bella, I know you and Edward have discussed Rosalie and me. And I know you know I haven't been…faithful to her memory in the physical sense. Edward and I…we're different types of men. Or perhaps that's just an excuse. Who knows?" he mused. "But I know; rather, I have… _faith_ that when this existence finally ends, Rosalie will be waiting for me. There is nothing other than faith holding me to this belief, yet I know it to be true. And I think…if you simply let go and allow yourself to rely on faith, you'll see things much differently."

I gave him a weak smile, which he saw through anyway. "Easier said than done, but I'll try."

He chuckled. "Well, that's the best we can do, isn't it? And now, I'll go back inside. There are logistics to plan, and you really should clear your head of all this bullshit one way or the other," he said much firmer. "You need to practice."

"You're right," I nodded. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

He walked away, leaving me to my thoughts. But again, I was alone for only a couple of minutes.

I sensed him before I felt his arms wrap around my waist, and I instinctively melted into him, pressing my back into his strong chest. He nuzzled his face against my neck, kissing my throat.

"Your father is anxious to check your head and make sure you're not concussed even though I told him I already checked."

I nodded. "I'll come in just a minute."

He held me tightly, brushing his lips back and forth along my collar, his warm breath heating me despite the cold air.

"Bella, in the midst of this nightmare, what can I say to make you happy?"

I turned in his arms. Apparently, the boys had come prepared because he'd changed his clothes.

"Say you'll love me no matter who I am."

"You want me to feed into your doubts. I cannot do that."

"No. I want you to reassure me that at the end of this, it will be _me_ you love."

"It will _always_ be you whom I love."

I chuckled humorlessly, shaking my head. "As always, for always. You're an expert at semantics – at trying to get around things with your words."

He cradled my face between his hands. "Listen to me, I'm not trying to get around anything. I simply won't feed into your self-doubts." When I huffed and looked away from him, he took my chin between his fingers and forced my eyes back to his. "Nor will I give in to the garbage that _thing_ fed you. I love you for who you are now, and for who you were then, Bellaria."

My nostrils flared.

"This is what is weakening you, this lack of belief in your own destiny, in what was fated! Erase all these damn fears and doubts, and embrace your destiny!"

"I don't believe in destiny! I don't _want_ destiny or fate! I want choices! I want _you_ to choose-"

"Edward! Bella!"

We both looked toward the cabin, where Jasper stood by the door, waving us over urgently. "Come!"

Next to me, Edward drew in a deep breath and took my hand. Silently, we rushed back to the cabin.

They were all gathered around the small flat-screen, which was situated in a corner of the room after falling off the wall. Miraculously, it still worked. Their shoulders were stiff and rigid. Emmett and Jasper moved aside, so Edward and I could stand in front of the TV.

" _In what continues to be a miserably tragic day in Seattle, another life has been lost this afternoon. Seattle's Chief-of-Police, Greg Saunter, apparently suffered a heart attack while handling the investigation of the UDub Massacre which occurred this morning. He has died. We have no further information regarding his death, except to say the Deputy Chief-of-Police, Sergeant Charles Swan, will be taking over the massive search for the individual or individuals believed responsible for the deaths of over 20 students and staff at the university. We take you now to a live briefing."_

The TV cameras panned to a group of police, ATF, SWAT, and DHS officials standing huddled together behind one man with dark brown hair, dark eyes, and features which looked both unfamiliar and…horrifyingly familiar.

My father fisted the hair at the nape of his neck, eyes wide and round.

"That's him. That's how your mom once described him."

" _Good afternoon. We have suffered an unspeakable tragedy at our doors today, right on the steps of one of our great institutions of higher learning: The University of Washington. We have lost over twenty innocent lives. We've suffered the destruction of one of our pillars of knowledge. And now…now we know that one man, possibly accompanied by one woman, are responsible for all of it. The individuals' names are being released as Edward Masen, a twenty-five-year-old student at the university, and the woman we believe to be Bella Cullen, twenty-six-years-old and a professor at the university. As of now, we're not sure whether the woman was a party to the events or whether she is being held hostage, but if she is a hostage…"_ – the Deputy Chief-of-Police looked directly into the cameras – _"if she is a hostage, then we demand that this criminal, Edward Masen, let her_ _ **go**_ _,"_ he scowled. _"If she is returned safely, then she will be treated as the victim she is. But as for you, Mr. Masen,"_ he said through gritted teeth, _"as for you, we are unleashing the full arsenal of this city's entire police force. You cannot hide. You cannot escape. You cannot thwart us._ _ **You**_ _will be found, and_ _ **you**_ _will be brought to justice. Now, I have no further comment."_

And with that, Deputy Chief-of-Police Charles Swan turned away from the cameras and quickly and confidently strode away.

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

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 **See you guys soon. :)**


	26. Chapter 26 - Your Blood is My Strength

**A/N: Thank you so much for your wonderful thoughts.**

 **Sorry for the delay! Those of you who know me know that Spring Break usually means no updates. But we're back, and we're almost done!**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes. (All remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

* * *

 **Chapter 26 – Your Blood is my Strength**

"Do we assume then that Jakob has turned the entire Seattle Police Force, perhaps even the SWAT, FBI, and ATF – everyone involved in the manhunt?" Jasper asked.

"Yes," Edward replied. "We must proceed as if they're all shifters."

"Jesus," my father breathed, "but what if they're not?"

There was a short moment of silence. "It changes nothing," Edward finally said. "In the grand scheme of things, it changes nothing. It's not as if we were planning on going to any of them for help in the matter. And if they come after us…"

"True," Emmett sighed. "Well, what about Charles Swan? Do you think _he's_ a shifter?"

"No, I don't believe so. In Roman times, he was Karolus, Rena's father, who made a deal with the _Garwalf_ , Iakobus, and was killed during the eruption of Vesuvius. In the middle ages, as the Lord Karles of Castle Swein, you and Bellaria's father, he was human as well. I myself killed him during the castle raid."

"Then that must mean…" Jasper began.

"He was reincarnated," Edward finished.

"My God," Emmett added. "How does one man manage to be reincarnated as the father of three such powerful women?"

"There are still facets to this which, one thousand years later, we do not understand," Jasper concluded. "Something must've happened ages ago, during times to which we cannot even begin to trace back."

All the while, in the background, the TV droned on with the news of the day; specifically, with the news story which would most likely dominate all social media outlets for the foreseeable future. And as the muted sun finally began to set behind Mount Rainier, thankfully signaling the end of this disastrous day, I stood silently by the window, listening to the men in my life, to the TV, and watching the meager light fade from the sky in what was, for all I knew, perhaps one of the last sunsets in my life.

My dad cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, I think there's another question we're failing to address here."

Poor Carlisle Cullen. When one thought about it, he'd been thrust into the supernatural world over two decades ago in much the same way Edward had almost one thousand years earlier: by falling in love with the wrong woman.

"Well, why did he _return_ at these two specific times - during Bellaria's birth and…to father my daughter?"

"I don't see that as a question," Edward replied. "The answer to that is simple, and I believe we _all_ know it."

I sighed.

No one else said much following that.

OOOOOOOOOO

That night, Edward and I lay in my full-sized bed in my small room in the cabin. We didn't speak much even though there was so much to say after the events of the day. Instead, he held me spooned against him while he ran his fingers through the length of my hair. Despite everything, despite all the stupid things I'd done and said over the past twenty-four hours, Edward still soothed me. Or perhaps he soothed me because of everything I'd done in the past twenty-four hours. I no longer knew the difference.

I picked up his other hand, the one resting lightly on my stomach, and brought it to my mouth, brushing my lips back and forth over it.

"No matter what, even when I've brought the entire Washington State police force down on us, you still comfort _me_."

He snorted quietly, his warm breath fanning across my neck. "Comforting you is what I was made for, and I've dealt with worse than the entire Washington State police force."

"Edward, I'm so-"

"Shh. Go to sleep, my love. We have a couple of long days ahead of us, and you need your rest."

I tangled our fingers together and returned them to our stomach. Despite all the thoughts racing through my mind, with the lull brought about by his ministrations, I must've fallen asleep. I knew I was dreaming because we were back at the university, and the campus's abundant cherry blossom trees were in full bloom. Unlike the last time I'd seen them, the delicate flowers hadn't fallen off the branches yet. They crowded the tree limbs in pale shades of pink and white. The rest of the campus landscape was also as resplendent and undefiled as it had been before yesterday's events. However, there was something different about the campus buildings. They were intact, yet they weren't the same buildings I'd once admired for their old-world charm.

Edward stood under one of the trees, as tall and handsome as ever, but…there was something different about him too, something I couldn't quite place. I tried to focus. Knowing it was a dream, I tried zooming in as if I were examining the scene through a magnifying glass. Yet suddenly, instead of sharpening, Edward, the campus, and the cherry blossom trees all faded into the background, and another figure, a much smaller one, slowly drew closer.

I startled awake, staring up at the wood-beamed ceiling. For a few seconds, in spite of the confusing dream as well as the momentary disorientation of my surroundings, I felt an inexplicable sense of…peace course through me. Then Edward appeared, hovered above me.

"Edward," I breathed, reaching up for him. I cradled his cheek in my hand, wanting to tell him so much, to tell him I'd seen him under the cherry blossom trees. Instead, I gasped when my hand left behind an imprint of blood. It was then I noted the expression on his face. His handsome features were contorted in horror, infused with pure anguish and the deepest despondency imaginable. He palmed my cheek and sobbed brokenly.

"I am sorry. I am sorry, my Bellaria."

I opened my mouth and tried to speak, but the only thing that poured forth from between my lips was a warm, sticky liquid.

"Wait for me, my wife," Edward said, choking on his tears, his green eyes clouded in a way I'd never seen. "Wait for me as you promised - as always, for always. I will find you, Bellaria, wherever you go, and we will be together for eternity."

Again, I tried to speak, to tell him that this wasn't happening, that it was just a dream, a horrible dream. But I simply couldn't make my mouth move. And suddenly, I felt so exhausted. While Edward's tears fell on my cheeks, my eyelids fluttered. Yet before they closed entirely, flashes of bright blue framed by darkness caught my attention to shift just beyond Edward's shoulders, the color almost glowing in its intensity.

Even when my eyes fell shut, I could still hear Edward's tortured howls as he gently eased me down over a cold, hard surface. Then there was more yelling, the sound of swords being drawn and colliding, of shuffling accompanied by screams. And then…Edward's voice rang out, once again loud and strong:

"Mark me well, all in this room: God's teeth upon you, for in this life or the next, you will all pay for this evil - from the faithless priest to the simplest flute players to you, Lord Karles, the high-necked fowl." The ensuing silence was broken by what sounded like gasps of horror. "I am no longer bound by man or god. _Her_ blood will be my strength, for my soul will not rest until I finish you all..."

 _Her blood will be my strength, for my soul will not rest until I finish you all._

 _Her blood will be my strength, for my soul will not rest until I finish you all._

I awoke with a long, breathless gasp, clutching my throat with one hand, and with the other, reaching for Edward. The moonlight streaming in illuminated his tall form standing rigidly by the window, his jaw squared tightly. Full and high in the sky, the moon itself set the forest aglow in its white haze. Its beams framed Edward in the room's dust particles, which danced like glitter all around him.

"Edward," I murmured, sitting up and reaching out for him, my chest still heaving. "Edward, I had the strangest dream."

Edward turned his head sideways and met my eyes. His own eyes were black and stood out against his pale skin.

"Don't do it, Bella," he said.

"What?"

The silver light filtering in suddenly morphed into a deep orange and then a red so crimson and fiery that it turned Edward's face into what I imagined a demon's face would resemble.

"Don't, Bella," he repeated, his tone pleading now.

"I…I don't know what you mean."

A loud blast preceded the explosion which collapsed all four walls of the room. The window shattered. Abruptly, I was outside in the dark, the bed surrounded by forest, and the forest surrounded by falling ash and debris.

"Don't do this," Edward begged. "This isn't you."

"I can't stop it," I sobbed quietly. "I can't stop it without you."

"Yes, you can," he said gently, in total contrast to the destruction around us. Then he smiled, and the sharpest sliver of pain imaginable coursed through me. "Yes, you can. Bella, I will always love you."

I awoke with a gasp.

"Shh." Edward's arms tightened around me. "Shh. It's okay, Bella. You were dreaming. It's okay."

I shut my eyes. "I don't know what's real and what's not anymore."

He eased my back on the bed and hovered above me, his mouth tenderly meeting mine. "Feel this. _This_ is real, my love. We are here together."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him flush against me, swallowing back the sting in my eyes.

"Was it…did you dream of-"

"-of Bellaria?" I finished for him. "Yes. I dreamed of Bellaria's death. She died, and that was the end of her. I'm sorry."

He tightened his hold around me. "Bella…"

"Then I dreamed of exploding mountains. I dreamed of fire."

He was quiet, his body wrapped around mine, his lips brushing back and forth over my lips.

"Why did she, my mother, want us here – so close to the mountains?"

"I don't know, Bella," he murmured. "But I believe she must have had a good reason."

"I'm afraid of my lack of control," I confessed. "I'm afraid of what might happen to all of us, one way or another if I can't-"

He pulled away and met my gaze. "Bella, these dark dreams are simply your doubts manifesting themselves. You must let go of these doubts," he pleaded. "We _will_ defeat them, Bella, and then-"

"Then, what?" I snorted. "We can't go back to Seattle."

"No, we can't," he admitted with a sigh, "not for…a long time."

I cradled his face. "Here's the thing, Edward. I don't care. I don't care about any of that, and I know how ridiculous it is considering it was I who insisted on staying until the end of the quarter. I caused all this with my stubbornness, with my unreasonableness-"

He placed two fingers over my mouth, preventing me from saying more. "Stop. This was all going to happen. Was it unreasonable of you to want as normal a life as possible? No," he answered himself. "It is what anyone would want, to lead a life as close to normal as possible, a life full of achievements, possibilities, and love. Do not do this to yourself, Bella."

I pulled his fingers away. "Why are you always so ready and willing to defend me, even when I contradict you? You even defend me from me."

"Because it's what I was made to do," he replied matter-of-factly, "to defend you and to protect you."

I searched his eyes. "Edward, since the moment you came into my life, you've been the best, the most _human_ part of me, and if anything ever came between us, I don't know how I'd deal-" I choked back a sob.

Edward's nostrils flared. "Is that what you fear? Bella, you _will_ make it through this. I swear that to you."

"That means _nothing_ if you don't make it through with me. And now you have the man who fathered me, Charles Swan, and perhaps every other law enforcement official on this coast after you."

"You have to let go of all these fears, Bella. _We_ will make it through this, you and I. _Bella Cullen_ ," he emphasized, "and I."

I dropped my head to his chest quickly to hide my tears. "I love you, Edward, for always," I murmured, placing a kiss over the spot where his heart failed to beat.

"I love you too, Bella." He kissed the top of my head. "For always."

I was sure it didn't escape either one of us that we'd skipped over the first part of that age-old saying between him and his Bellaria.

OOOOOOOOOO

Just as they'd probably done for ages and ages, the morning birds sang their sunrise songs.

Edward woke me with soft, ghostlike brushes of his lips on my mouth, my cheeks, and my closed eyes. They skimmed downward to my collarbone and my breasts. He sucked my nipples into his mouth before his mouth trailed lower, and he pushed open my legs. Then he sucked on the tender skin of my inner thigh, where my femoral artery lay. I writhed and whimpered quietly.

"Edward…"

When he moved to the other leg, my back arched off of the mattress.

"Edward…"

He licked between my thighs, and I threw back my head wordlessly, my mouth falling open. When he finally pushed himself inside me, I opened my eyes and was met by the muted orange haze of daybreak streaming in, and Edward moving over me, gazing down at me with so much love, it pushed away all the events of the day before.

"All this…" he breathed while he rhythmically thrust in and out of me, his hands wrapped around my face, holding my gaze, "all this I would only ever share with my soulmate, with the woman who owns my heart and soul and whose blood rules me. No matter what else, _she_ is you."

With a whimper of both pleasure and relief, I nodded, meeting his hips with my own.

"Only you, Bella," he growled, thrusting harder. " _You_ are my strength."

"Yes, Edward. Yes. And you're mine."

At that moment, nothing else mattered. When Edward and I were as one, who I may or may not have been in another life took a back seat to being the one loved so perfectly by him at that moment.

"Only you…"

I closed my eyes, lost to the sensations of his love-making, of his reassurances, and of the all-consuming pleasure taking me away. I floated on a cloud of bliss. It was only when I heard him chuckle lowly that I reopened my eyes.

"What's so funny right now?" I smiled.

"Look around us, my love," he murmured, his hips still pushing and pulling against mine.

Unwillingly, I turned my eyes away from him. Then, I gasped.

The wood-beamed ceiling was no longer as high up as it usually was, and the bed…the bed was a few feet below us.

"We're floating," I breathed. "I was thinking…I was thinking to myself that making love with you was like floating on air, and now..."

He chuckled again. "You are so powerful, my love. So extremely powerful that when you let go, when you truly let go, you can do the most amazing things."

"Edward…"

With a lustful grin, he increased the tempo of his thrusts. "Let's see how long you can keep us up here."

I wrapped myself around him, melding our bodies together, chest to chest, hips to hips. For one long moment, we floated away in our mutual heaven.

OOOOOOOOOO

"I'm going hunting this morning," he said, the mattress soft and supple under us once again. I lay comfortably on his chest while he stroked my bare back languidly, the pads of his fingers ghosting up and down the grooves of my spine. "The solstice falls in two days' time, and we must be ready."

"I know," I whispered. It was six-thirty in the morning, about an hour past sunrise. On the longest day of the year, the sun would rise at five eleven a.m., which meant we had fewer than forty-eight hours until then.

"Jasper scouted the area yesterday evening and found a cave nearby. It's dark and quiet inside, and he was able to get some sleep there. Emmett and I will be gone for a few hours. Jasper and your father will remain, as well as a handful of our friends who arrived in the night. They are guarding the perimeter and will remain out of sight until I return later this morning."

My eyes widened at the realization that we were now surrounded by vampires who were completely unknown to me.

"Edward, why are they so willing and ready to help us?" I asked, stroking his unyielding chest. "I mean, not that I'm not grateful."

"Most of them have been our friends for centuries," he explained. "What's more, they understand that should Jakob succeed, it would mean the eventual annihilation of our kind."

An unbidden thought, infuriating for the very fact that it had apparently implanted itself in my mind despite how much I abhorred it, coursed its way through my memories.

 _You're simply a pawn to him, a means to an end…_

Cringing, I shook away the thought.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. So, their assistance isn't entirely based on altruistic purposes."

"No," he snorted, "not entirely, but they are our friends."

"Perhaps…perhaps you should've just changed me as soon as I found out everything. Not only would I be a strong, powerful vampire right now, but it would've ended any of Jakob's plans to put his monster inside me."

His fingers froze on my back. "That wouldn't have been a solution, Bella, for many reasons."

I lifted my head from his chest and met his wary gaze, quirking an eyebrow. "Such as?"

"Such as," he repeated, his upper lip curling, "the fact that we have no idea yet how you'll take to the change. As I've told you, it's a long and complicated process in and of itself."

"What else?" I asked.

He huffed irately. "Bella, you are a strong and powerful creature in your own right. Stop questioning those things which do not merit questioning and focus on all those magnificent strengths within you."

 _Do you truly believe he'd change you into one of his kind and keep you for an_ _eternity_ _? If so, why hasn't he already changed you?_

I was unable to stop myself from flinching at those remembered words.

"Christ's love, what goes through your mind?"

"Nothing important," I lied, unwilling to add to the tension already between us. "I don't completely agree, but I suppose it's too late to change me before the solstice now. So exactly how many vampires are we expecting?"

"About a dozen," he replied tightly.

"Will that be enough?" I frowned.

"Bella, you must remember, my love," he said in a much more conciliatory tone, "that one of our kind can easily defeat a dozen of their kind, sometimes even more."

"Like yesterday."

He nodded. "Like yesterday. Just the thought of you being in danger…" He shook his head quickly. "Bella, I was not exaggerating when I said you were my strength."

"But Edward, you said yourself that Jakob and his kind have hidden from you for centuries, preparing for the day when they believe their prize would be within reach. You also said that yesterday, Jakob was simply testing us and that on the solstice, he and his kind will be at their strongest."

His jaw tightened. "Do you phrase it that way because you don't believe they'll achieve their goal or because you still don't believe you are the goal?"

"What difference does it make, and you're completely ignoring the real concern there."

He exhaled heavily, shutting his eyes and fisting his hair.

"I don't believe I am, but I'm so tired of arguing with you, Bella." When he reopened his eyes, they were now clouded with frustration.

"So am I," I said in resignation.

"Whatever you meant, you must practice your gifts as much as possible between now and the solstice."

"I know. I will." I swallowed. "But please be careful, okay?"

He pushed back a few strands of my hair, still damp from our lovemaking. "Do not worry about me. I'll be fine. For now, we are well hidden and well-protected here."

"For now," I echoed.

He held my gaze meaningfully. "Yes, my love, for now." Then very gently, he eased me off his chest so that he could rise and dress. Yet before he left the bed, he turned to me once more, cradling my cheek in his warm hand.

"Bella, how I wish you could always remember, not just when I'm next to you or inside you, that when you let go, when truly let go, you can do the most amazing things imaginable."

OOOOOOOOOO

Just as Edward had implied, the newly-arrived vampires kept to themselves. Still, I knew they were around. It wasn't exactly something I could explain or fully describe. It was more like a literal sixth sense, a tingling sort of sensation deep in the back of my head. It was strange, but it was better than the massive headache which the proximity of so many shifters had caused me the other day on campus.

I kept my word. While Edward and Emmett were gone, Jasper and I moved to a nearby open field and kept busy, practicing my gifts. My dad remained in the cabin, in charge of keeping track of what the news outlets were reporting.

As for my powers, yes, they'd improved by leaps and bounds over the past few weeks. Nevertheless, I still couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. And I was terrified that what was missing was the fact that I wasn't Bellaria; therefore, these imperfect, uncontrollable and sometimes erratic abilities were all I'd have to help keep us alive.

The entire time we practiced, the newspaper articles Edward showed me soon after I'd discovered the truth, the ones about the mysterious disappearances of hundreds of people throughout the world, circled my mind. What was it that Edward said just a few hours earlier: one vampire could easily overpower a dozen shifters? If on the solstice, Jakob appeared with a gathered army of let's say, five hundred shifters, we'd need approximately forty-one vampires to defeat them. Instead, we had a dozen. We were headed into battle with one dozen vampires and a second-rate sorceress.

"My lady, you're not focused," Jasper suddenly said.

With a sigh, I dropped my hands to my sides and returned Jasper to the grassy meadow. "Sorry."

He approached me with an understanding smile. "Perhaps we should take a short break."

"Jasper…" I held his gaze, "why do you call me _my lady_ when you don't really believe I'm _she_?"

He lifted a pale brow. "I've never said I didn't believe."

"But you doubt."

Jasper drew in a deep, unnecessary breath, sweeping his eyes toward the mountains in the distance as he exhaled. Then he ran his fingers through his spikey, almost white hair. For the first time since I'd met him, Jasper Whitlock - _Jasper of the white locks -_ seemed to search for the right words.

"Bella, I don't doubt. Rather, I have _questions_."

"It's the same thing."

He gave me a wry grin. "It's not the same thing. You and I, we're very like-minded, aren't we?"

"Yes, we are," I grinned in return.

With a sigh, he took a seat on the dewy grass, bending his knees upward. I took a seat beside him. His gaze remained on the snow-peaked mountains in front of us.

"That which your father pointed out last evening has true merit. Why would Charles Swan be reincarnated to father both Bellaria and you?"

"I do see the point they're trying to make: because of having the same father, Bellaria and I must be one and the same. Yet, he was Rena's father as well. What's more, I dream of Bellaria's life and death, but I also dream of Rena. None of it changes the fact that my birth doesn't hold true to Rena's prophecy. Rena's prophecy said nothing of Karolus or Karles or Charles, but it did say that the chosen one would be born from women of the bloodline. My birth breaks with that prophecy, no matter how you split things."

His bright blue eyes met mine, and he held my gaze for one long moment before slowly nodding.

"Yes, there continue to be questions. Nevertheless, there is one thing I don't question."

"And what is that?"

"I don't question how much Edward loves you or how loyal he is to that love. As long as he believes, I will believe."

"But you have your own mind, Jasper. His beliefs shouldn't have to be your own."

Again, his eyes panned away from me and toward the mountains.

"Sometimes, I wonder…" He paused, yet instead of breaking the long silence which ensued, I allowed him time to find his words. "Edward and Emmett, as humans, both knew love. Throughout the centuries, I have seen how that has shaped them, has sustained them. Perhaps not in exactly the same manner," he smirked. "For almost one thousand years, Edward refused to lay with any woman, while Emmett has lain with his fair share. Nevertheless, their minds have both been filled by one woman, respectively. Mine, however, was focused on the world around us. Mind you, I don't hold this against their intellect," he mused.

"So generous of you," I chuckled.

He chuckled with me, then once again paused to collect his thoughts. With a sharp intake of breath, he reached what I assumed was the crux of his speculations.

"I do often wonder if that love has somehow been the basis for our differing approaches to the world in which we live."

"Because you never fell in love, and therefore, your mind has been clearer."

This time, as I watched him, his bright blue eyes appeared to glaze over, as if he was seeing something other than what was before us.

"There was a maiden I once knew before I became a vampire and before the events which occurred in the castle. Her name was Alise."

"Alise," I echoed. "Where did you know her from?"

"She was the daughter of a swordsmith, of a brander. She was very pretty, dark-haired, petite, and very witty, what one might call _mouthy_ today." He snorted. "Alise was not the type of girl to play shy or coy – in that respect, she reminded me of my lady Bellaria. We used to…" he chuckled sheepishly, and I got the distinct impression that he'd be blushing if it were at all possible. "We used to flirt."

"Ah," I smiled at his admission.

"Please don't misunderstand. She was very proper. There was nothing beyond a flirtation between us, no formal understanding," he made solemnly clear. "There could not be, for I was naught but a mere squire and still too green to take a wife. But…I used to imagine achieving knighthood and speaking with her father. I'd almost convinced myself that she was expecting it, waiting for it." He swallowed. "Waiting for _me_."

"Jasper," I whispered, "were you in love with her?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I don't believe I was, not truly. My notions and inclinations hadn't quite reached that level. Although, throughout the ages, I have wondered if it was merely a matter of time; if I'd lived and known her just a short while longer…"

I waited, but he didn't complete that thought.

"My point, _my lady_ ," he smiled, meeting my eyes again, "is that throughout the ages, I have tried to picture the type of individual I'd be had I reached that level of feeling with Alise. Would I be different from how I am now? Would I be able to see that which can't be seen or proven? Would I believe in abstract notions, in that which could not be touched or measured? Or would I still be exactly who I am?"

I had no answer for him.

"I have no answer either." He shrugged as if he could read my mind. "But that is why, despite my own continuing questions, if Edward believes you are Bellaria, then I will operate under that belief as well. I do not know how a man like he, a man in love, measures such things. Since I don't know, I can't contradict him."

I snorted. "You can't contradict what you don't know. Well, I am in love, in deep, everlasting love, yet I still contradict him."

His ensuing laugh was full of genuine mirth. "Perhaps, my lady, somewhere therein lies the answer."

I chuckled. "Perhaps. So what happened with Alise? Do you know?"

The humor faded from his handsome face, and his eyes became as hard and dark as Edward's tended to become when he was infuriated. He turned away from me and glared at the sky.

"She married a man by the name of James, a hunter. He did not appreciate her wit. She must have answered him back or defied him somehow one night, and she was found one morning beaten to death. Women were their husband's property back then, and so he feared no retribution, no justice. I killed him the following evening," he said casually.

I clamped a hand over my mouth. "Jasper, I'm so sorry."

"It's all right, my lady. As I said, I did not love her – not yet. But sometimes I wonder…if this existence ever ends, will I see her again?" He met and held my eyes once more. "Would Alise be waiting for me still?"

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook: Stories by PattyRose**

 **See you guys soon!**


	27. Story Status Update

**Author's Note:**

I hope everyone who received an alert for this post read the Chapter Title, which said "Story Status Update," and knew beforehand that this wouldn't be a new chapter! If you didn't, I apologize, but THIS IS JUST A SHORT NOTE TO LET YOU GUYS KNOW THE STATUS OF THE STORY!

It's been a while since Bellaria last updated, yes. I've tried keeping those readers who follow me on Facebook and/or Twitter up to date on the status, but I wanted to reach the rest of you guys as well.

Bellaria WILL continue posting. Unfortunately, I've been extremely busy these past few weeks. Real Life has been kicking my butt, not necessarily (or not completely) in a bad way, but it's kept me from writing as much as I'd like. I HAVE been writing chapters for Bellaria, but I've been doing so slowly, in the little spare time I've had recently. However, we're up to a point in the story (the CLIMAX!) where I don't want to make you guys wait a week or even a few days in between each post. Therefore, I've decided to finish writing the story before I begin posting again.

There are about six or seven chapters left in this story. I've written out four of them. When I'm done writing them and they've all been betad, I'll begin posting again, one chapter every other day. As a ROUGH estimate, we should hopefully have the story up and running again by the end of June, early July or so. (But don't hold me to that!)

Thanks so much to all you guys who've reviewed, pm'd me, or otherwise reached out to make sure I'm alive. I'm sorry if I haven't gotten back to you, but like I said, I've been so super busy lately. Just to give you an idea, I've got a seventeen-year-old about to graduate high school and getting ready for college, whose surprise graduation party I've been planning for months now, a fifteen-year-old who just recently completed a busy and successful track season (if you guys have kids who run track, you know how long those meets are!), a twelve-year old who is almost but not quite done with a busy and successful dance competition season, and who did so well that now I have the added pleasure of having to take her to special dance classes over the summer, and…I work for an environmental agency, whose first initial is E and last initial is A, which is having a difficult time as of late. (That's the not-so-fun part of my RL right now). So there you go.

In summary, long story short (am I even capable of keeping things short?), Bellaria should hopefully begin posting again sometime in mid/late June – early July. :)

Thanks, and enjoy these first few weeks of summer! (While we still can).

Patty


	28. Chapter 27 - Little White Lies

**A/N: Good morning! It's been a while, indeed. I had a busy few months, but rather than bore you guys with details I already included in my story status update a few weeks ago, let's just get right to it. First...a couple of important points:**

 **1\. We have 8 chapters left in this story. To get us through the rest without (or should I say, hopefully without) pulling out our hair, I WILL BE POSTING ONE CHAPTER EVERY OTHER DAY THROUGH THE END. So since I'm posting today, Wednesday, I'll post again on Friday. Then, I'll post again on Sunday, followed by Tuesday, etc.**

 **2\. Thanks so much for your pms of encouragement, your continued reviews, and generally for being such great, patient guys throughout my little absence. I truly appreciate it. This fandom has the best guys in it, I swear. :)**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes. (All remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is all mine.**

 **Chapter 27 – Little White Lies.**

 _Good morning, our top story continues with new developments related to the massacre which occurred three days ago at Seattle's University of Washington campus. This morning, the manhunt for Edward Masen, the main suspect in the cold-blooded murder of twenty-three students and staff members at the University, is being expanded nationwide._

An unfavorable police sketch of Edward flashed across the screen, making me wonder who exactly provided the source material for such a distorted representation. Setting down my fork, I angled away from the warped likeness and twisted my head toward the window instead. Despite the rumbling seeping in from outside, the sun's rays streaming in gave a beautifully resplendent glow around the cabin that reached every nook and cranny of the naturally dark room.

 _In the past three days, reported sightings of Masen have come in from across the country and as far away as Chicago, but so far, there are no credible leads. Masen is believed to be accompanied by Bella Cullen, a professor at the University, although; at this point, officials still haven't clarified whether Cullen is considered a person of interest or an individual held against her will. In another development, Professor Cullen's father, Doctor Carlisle Cullen from Forks, Washington, has also been reported missing since the day of the massacres._

"They're leaving you an out," my dad said.

He and I sat at the table eating breakfast – the only two individuals within five square miles who'd fed on something other than blood for the past few days. Not for the first time in those past few days I also wondered about how things would be once we were gone from there, one way or another. How long would it take for the Northern Cascades' wild population to recover from the predators who'd been suddenly introduced into their environment at the very top of the food chain?

"You know, in case you want to give yourself over to them peacefully," my dad continued. With a muttered, "Assholes," he finished his musings, which cut through my own nonsensical ones.

I wrapped my hand around his and squeezed. "Dad, I'm so sorry you're involved in this."

He turned his attention away from the TV and toward me. "Bella, I may not have known exactly what I was getting into that day in the hospital when I made the decision to keep your mom's secret, but I haven't regretted it for one single day of my life." Turning our hands over, he squeezed mine in return.

"I misunderstood your reasons for everything," I confessed.

"Well, I suppose in hindsight, I could've been more forthcoming with you. Regardless," he sighed, and with one final pat, released my hand, "that issue is moot. _They_ , however, know very well that neither of us is being held against our will."

"Jakob, Charles, and the shifters know the truth," I nodded, "but those reporting the story most likely don't. What's more, we still have no idea how many of the people involved in this manhunt are actual shifters. Many of them might truly believe that Edward murdered twenty-three innocent people instead of twenty-three individuals who'd already been turned into mindless monsters."

"Mindless monsters." He shook his head and snorted. "When your mother warned me of _monsters_ coming after you, I had no notion of how literally she meant that word."

"Apparently, she meant it pretty damn literally."

In spite of the horrible manner in which he'd made their acquaintance, over the past few weeks, Carlisle Cullen had become a veritable father-figure to not only me, his stepdaughter, but also to Edward, Emmett, and Jasper as well. He saw how protective they were of me, and in my stepdad's eyes, anyone who protected me had his eternal devotion.

 _Eyewitness cell phones have all been confiscated by the authorities. We also have reports of officials carefully monitoring social media for any posts of the events which occurred on the campus._

"They don't want the truth of what happened to come out," I said.

"That would expose them as well as Edward. No, they have to contain the events at the university as much as possible or imagine the mayhem."

Not wanting to add Seattle's possible chaos to the list of things I was already imagining, I turned back to the window. Outside, Edward and a few of his vampire friends were carrying on last-minute prep. Up until a short while ago, I'd been out there with them: practicing and combining their strength with my iffy powers while testing what we could do together. When Edward announced exercise time for just those of a vampiric nature, I joined my dad in the cabin. Now I could see why he wanted me out of that field.

As they sparred and threw fists, blocked blows, round-kicked, and swept one another's feet out from under each other, the hits that made contact reverberated throughout the forest like sound waves rippling through the air. A few trees were down. The entire picture didn't quite match the bright sunshine overhead.

"I'd hate to be at the receiving end of a blow of that magnitude," my dad murmured.

He wouldn't be, not if I had anything to do with it, and certainly not if I could just learn how to fully control my abilities…

Out of nowhere, a band of gray clouds rolled in accompanied by flashes of lightning. Edward and the rest stopped sparring and looked up at the darkening sky. Then Edward's gaze flickered toward the cabin, and a knowing grin spread across his handsome face.

"Was that you?" my dad asked.

"We're far away from civilization, but even out here, there has to be a reason for all that clamor."

"You're right, of course. Good call. And good job," he added softly.

 _Those involved in the investigation have informed us that no vehicle has been found, no physical traces have been found, and no electronic traces have led to the whereabouts of the suspect. It's as if Edward Masen has disappeared into thin air._

Over the past couple of days, while watching the sparring sessions between Edward, Emmett, Jasper, and the other vampires who'd come to help us, I'd noted that all of them possessed the superhuman strength and physical attractiveness I now associated with the three guys I now considered my vampires. However, just as with humans, these characteristics were present in each to varying levels. For example, Benjamin, Henri, Liam, Peter, Eleazar, Raoul, and Diego, the seven male vampires who'd joined us, were all incredibly handsome. Yet, in my opinion, Emmett and Jasper, and most especially, Edward, were the best-looking.

Of the five female vampires who'd joined us, Sasha and Charlotte had jet-black skin that literally shone like ebony jewels, lips in the shape of pink flower petals, rich dark eyes, and thick, raven hair which neither limped nor frizzed. Chelsea and Renata both possessed an olive-toned complexion so sublime that no miracle cream could ever hope to deliver its equal. Their hair was pure silk, and their lips looked like they were wearing dark red lipstick when in reality, they wore none. Of course, none of these female vampires would ever have to worry about the effects of time and/or gravity on their tits and asses.

Then, there was the one who was currently sparring with Edward.

 _Victims' families and neighbors are planning to gather this afternoon for a vigil as close to the campus as they'll be allowed. They plan to protest the lack of information being shared by the Seattle Police Department as well as by the FBI, DHS, ATF along with other agencies involved in the ongoing investigation._

With her long and lithe body, Irene resembled a lioness on the prowl. Fast and flexible, her wavy blond ponytail swayed like a pendulum as she bounced nimbly on her toes while aiming an uppercut toward Edward's jaw, which just barely missed its mark. Grinning and grunting, she limberly dodged his jabs, apparently enjoying the shit out of exercise time.

 _Deputy Chief of Police Charles Swan plans to once again address Seattle this afternoon, asking the public to remain vigilant for this likely armed and extremely dangerous_ _individual. We'll bring his remarks to you live as soon as…_

In the second it took me to blink to the TV and back, Edward dropped into a crouch and swept Irene's feet out from under her unending, shapely legs. She reeled back, heading straight for the dewy grass, and I waited for her body and the hard ground to make contact. In my mind's eye, I saw her splayed flat and imagined the ungraceful thud her perfect backside and glorious head would make when they impacted with unyielding earth.

Instead, in the next fraction of a second, she grabbed Edward's neck and yanked him down with her, somehow managing to roll in midair so that they headed for the ground with her on top of him, grinning. When Edward landed with a hard thud, and she ended up pinned to the tree behind her instead of landing on top of him, her eyes grew wide in shock.

"Ooh!" My dad's exclamation followed a sharp hiss through his teeth.

For a moment, I considered denying my involvement. However, I quickly realized it was unlikely that anyone would believe me, especially since six sets of vampire eyes were glued to the cabin, each displaying varying expressions of shock, surprise, and amusement. Clenching my tingling hands at my sides, I stood from the table.

"Thanks for breakfast, Dad."

As I stepped into the cool, misty meadow, Edward and Irene were once again upright. Their heads were bent close together, and from my angle, I could see Edward's mouth moving furiously around inaudible words. Irene scowled down at the ground, apparently receiving some sort of reprimand. Yet when she looked up and met my gaze, her glowing blue eyes rimmed by a livid shade of red, there was nothing conciliatory about her.

Lioness on the prowl, indeed.

Still, I approached with my palms facing upward, determined to show my own contrition and mete out a little white lie or two for the sake of harmony.

"Irene, I apologize. I was trying to keep you _both_ from falling, but as you guys have seen, I can't always control how they work." I wriggled my fingers in illustration.

Meanwhile, I could hear Emmett's quiet snickers off to the side.

"All right, let's take a break. Go feed or sleep or…" Edward trailed off and jerked his jaw toward the open woods. Irene kept her scowling gaze on me for a moment longer than necessary. Then with a bitter huff, she disappeared in between the trees. The rest followed.

When I reached Edward, he took my hand wordlessly. Lacing our fingers together, he swung us around in the opposite direction from which the rest disappeared. Then, we walked without aim or conversation.

"So, how's it going?" I finally dared ask.

"How's it going," Edward echoed with a bland chuckle, his eyes remaining front and center. "Well, we're honing already well-developed skills, we're feeding voraciously, we've got scouts all over the perimeter, and we've been taking turns catching a couple of hours of strength-building sleep. What's more, I see your powers are progressing as well," he smirked. "All in all, I'd say it's going pretty well."

"You sound supremely chipper and confident this morning," I smirked.

"That's because I am." Smiling much more genuinely, he squeezed my hand and gave me a sidelong glance, apparently choosing to ignore the passive-aggressive tone I'd failed to suppress. "Bella, after ages of loneliness, I found you. I found you and succeeded in regaining your love, as I've always loved you. Now, my existence is just as it should be. So, of what is there to be unsure?"

"I'm such an idiot. There are so many more important things to deal with, and I'm-"

"You're not an idiot," he contradicted, dropping a soft kiss to my temple. "You're wonderfully human. All will be fine, my love."

We came across a clearing about the size of a parking lot, where a gathering of cherry-blossom trees bloomed, their pink and white flowers ready to burst. The trees grew almost in a concentric circle as if standing sentry around the small meadow. We'd found a few such cherry-blossom tree groves up here over the past few days, but this one appeared to be the largest.

"I didn't think cherry-blossom trees were native to this region," I said, my eyes narrowed curiously.

"I don't believe they are. Perhaps you made them grow."

"Who knows?" I sighed and shook my head. "Our presence here is completely destroying the Northern Cascades ecosystem."

With another chuckle, Edward pulled my hand and leaned up against one of the trees. He parted his legs while drawing me into the tight space between them. Then, he wrapped his hands around my hips and pulled me close.

"Now, would you like to tell me what's truly bothering you?"

I rested my hands on his chest and looked into his eyes. "We have less than twenty-four hours before the solstice arrives."

He nodded. "Yes."

"Do you think he…Jakob will come as soon as the sun rises?"

Edward shook his head. "Solar noon, the point at which the sun will be highest in the sky and therefore at its most powerful all year, will arrive at one-ten p.m. tomorrow. He'll most likely make his appearance thereabouts or later, but definitely before the sun sets. Don't worry, Bella," he insisted. "The perimeter is surrounded. He'll not arrive without us knowing, and when he does, we'll take care of him and his minions expeditiously. You won't even have to leave the cabin. We _are_ ready."

I looked toward the direction from which we'd come. "Your…friends, they don't like me very much, do they?"

"They barely know you, and they are in awe of you."

"In _awe_ of me." I grinned wryly. "Is that what we're calling those looks?"

"Don't tell me you're unfamiliar with the concept of being held in awe, Bella." He pulled his gaze from me, resting it somewhere past my shoulder. When he spoke again, his tone was unexpectedly hard-edged. "I seem to recall a conversation on a rooftop bar between you and _your_ friend, Kate, a few short months ago. She pointed out that something inborn within you tends to awe people, which is why despite your beauty, so many men have kept their distance in the past. Nevertheless, if I remember the rest correctly, you decided to test that theory."

"God, you witnessed the _entire_ scene on that roof?"

His eyes panned back to me. "I believe I've already informed you I was there. When you left that rooftop, I followed you." His broad shoulders rose and fell in an unapologetic shrug.

"Were you the one calling me _Bellaria_ and scaring the shit out of me as I walked down the streets that night?"

"You know I wouldn't do that, not when you still knew so little. The one who did that paid the price for it."

I lifted my hands to his shoulders, curling them around tense, rigid muscle. "Edward, just a few short weeks ago, all these revelations both horrified and infuriated me. Not only am I not completely human or inhuman, but also, I'm being pursued by shape-shifting werewolves because their master either rightly or wrongly believes that joining his bloodline with mine will create the strongest being to walk the planet in thousands of years. Oh, and add to that the fact that I'm being protected by vampires."

He quirked a brow. "Yes, I recall your fury and horror a few weeks ago at finding out your actual reality. So, if the fury and horror have abated, what's left?"

"What's left?" I snorted, watching the breeze play with the soft wisps of hair along his forehead. "Now, instead of angry or frightened…if you were at the rooftop and witness to everything that night, then you saw me-"

"Yes, I saw you with the shifter who presented himself to you as Jakob. I saw you dance with him, and I saw you press your body to his. Nevertheless, you had no idea what he was or who _you_ were for that matter, not yet."

"Always making excuses for my stupidity," I murmured, shaking my head and dropping my gaze to his chest.

Easing a finger under my jaw, he lifted my chin, forcing my eyes back to his. "Bella, considering the short period of time in which you've had to absorb so much, I believe you've done amazingly well. And I believe _I've_ done a credible job over the last few months of calling you out on your bullshit when truly required."

I threw back my head and laughed so hard that the birds hiding in the branches scattered and soared toward the mountains.

"Well, you don't mince words with me anymore, that's for sure." I quirked an eyebrow. "I don't believe ancient knights are supposed to use that sort of language around ladies. It's un-chivalrous."

He further surprised me by pursing his lips and rolling his eyes. "My point is, you didn't know, but the few things I'd already told you along with the things Kate pointed out to you that night all began awakening your subconscious and your anxiousness. Unfortunately, I think it may have been your subconscious awakening which called to Jakob. Humans give off an appetizing scent when they are anxious, and yours…yours is uniquely amazing. I can smell it right now."

"Can you?" I drew closer to him, pressing my chest to his while tightening my arms around his neck. I angled my head upward to hold his calm and steady gaze. "I wish I'd never denied my attraction to you. We would've had more time."

At this, his composure seemed to crack a bit. He swallowed thickly, cradling my cheek. "Bella, we have _all_ the time in the world."

I reached for his face, ghosting my thumb over the scar which traversed his jaw. "You should know," I whispered, "that the night on the rooftop, it was you I was visualizing as I danced with that thing that called himself Jakob."

"I did _not_ know that," he replied, his eyes darkening the way I'd come to learn meant he was either angry or full of lust. "And _you_ should know this," he hissed. "Even had you agreed to go home with that thing, I would not have allowed it. In that case, you would've found out that same night who and what I was. Call me ancient, possessive, or archaic," he said carelessly. "I care not."

"You're possessive and archaic, at the very least," I said, giving in and touching those wisps of hair on his forehead, "but I suppose that makes me possessive and archaic as well."

His responding chuckle erupted from deep within his throat. "Irene is an old friend, Bella, nothing more."

"From where do you know her?"

He exhaled. "If you must hear this story, Emmett, Jasper, and I fought for the British during the Napoleonic Wars of the early 1800s. In those days, many soldiers took wives and mistresses into battle along with them."

My breath hitched.

"Before you jump to conclusions," he said, anticipating my outburst, "Irene was the young, French wife of a young, _French soldier_. When we met Napoleon and his army at the Battle of Waterloo, Irene's husband was one of the many men who fell at the end of my sword. Afterward, when she witnessed me feeding from him, she tried to attack me. Unfortunately, once she realized neither her hands nor her blade were doing damage, she turned her blade on herself. Obviously, she was not thinking clearly, so as she lay there dying, I felt bad because-"

"Let me guess. You felt bad because you couldn't allow so much youth and beauty to go to waste," I said dryly. "I thought you said you've never created a vampire?"

"Allow me to finish, please," he growled impatiently. "I felt bad for her because, despite the fact that she looked nothing like you, she did remind me of you. Yes, she was indeed young and beautiful. What's more," he said much more quietly, "seeing her lying there…bleeding out…it took me back to that accursed day…" He shook the dark memory from his head. "Nevertheless, in the course of the battle, we'd met a fellow immortal by the name of Laurent. It was he, who was unable to accept the waste of her youth and beauty, and he who changed her. Unfortunately, Laurent was irresponsible and unruly with his feeding habits, and he taught Irene the same carelessness. It caught up to them. In 1842, their coven was attacked by a large pack of werewolves. Irene escaped and sought out the three of us. She lived in England with us for a time, but when we set sail for America in the mid-1860s to lend assistance in another war against injustice and oppression, Irene was not interested in the cause. She remained in Europe."

"Wow," I breathed, "as a history lover, there are so many things I want to ask right now, but can you believe that the thought at the forefront of my mind is that Irene lived with you for decades?"

He chuckled heartily. "Ah, my love, you are a jealous one indeed, and I won't deny that I relish it."

"So is that when she decided she wanted you," I persisted, "when she saw you preparing to set sail for the new world?"

His mouth inched closer, warm breath fanning my face, lips almost touching mine. "What difference does it make when she decided she wanted me?"

"So she _does_ want you." I pulled back, searching his inscrutable eyes. "You admitted once that you've been tempted throughout the ages."

"I did admit it, and I have been tempted."

"Was she one of those temptations?"

He replied after a few, long heartbeats. "Yes. She offered herself to me before we set sail. I turned her down."

"Yet, she's here now, despite your turning her down."

"She's a good friend, and she couldn't resist a good fight," he smirked. "Your Dean was truthful about one thing, at least: the total annihilation of their kind is the greatest mission for most of my kind. Only _I_ have a greater mission."

I nodded silently, my scalp and fingers prickling despite how ridiculously juvenile I knew it was. In spite of all the monumentally more important matters we faced, my mind kept conjuring image after image of what exactly _she offered herself to me_ meant. Did it consist of words, or did she strut into some room naked, her perfect skin tight and glistening? Did she spread those long, shapely legs for him? With each consecutive image, my hands clenched tighter over his shoulders. The skies rumbled.

All the while, Edward watched me impassively. "Again, I ask, what difference does any of it make? Unfortunately for Irene, before she came along, my heart and soul had already been claimed. So, she could've grinned lustily, and perhaps…I may have grinned back once or twice," he conceded, "but it never went any further. Just as you were tempted by that thing with Jakob's handsome face on the rooftop, yet it was his misfortune that you already belonged to _me_ ," he hissed. "You could've flirted and danced with him all you wanted on that rooftop because by then, your soul knew me even if your mind still didn't recall. It would've gone no further than flirtation and not only because I would've ripped him to shreds right before your eyes had you tried to leave with him, but because I own you, Bella, just as you own me. Again, call me archaic, but let's deal with the real issue here, and it is definitely _not_ Irene."

"What _is_ the real issue according to you?"

"You're not jealous of Irene, not truly. You're jealous of _yourself_."

"I'm jealous of myself," I mocked, "not of the inhumanly gorgeous vampiress who's wanted to bed you for almost two centuries."

"Precisely, and it's this jealousy which holds you back from opening up to your gifts in every way." When I tried to look away, he locked my jaw gently yet firmly with one hand. "And you can deny who you are until you turn blue in the face. You can give me this look of yours full of fury mixed with pity when I directly or indirectly refer to you as _Bellaria_ , but that name, that life is imprinted on your soul as much as it is on mine."

Before I could make any reply, he pulled my mouth to his, pushing his warm tongue past my lips. Our breaths erupted and mingled, morphing into moans and groans as I reached for his sweatpants and pushed them down to release him into my hand. He growled into my mouth while I pumped him as one of his own hands relinquished my face to slip inside my sweats and sink in a finger deep.

"Edward…"

I threw back my head, every nerve ending in my body awakening. The mountain birds circled high above us, and the trees' branches bloomed and burst while the sun's golden rays seeped in between them. All the while, I held on to Edward's shoulder as he held me cupped within his palm, his other hand curved around my waist, supporting me.

"Yes…yes…yes…"

"I am yours and you are mine, as always, for always. Say you know this."

" _Yes."_

Even as unsure as I was of my right to that motto, I chanted my agreement. He withdrew his finger and pulled down my pants, and then gripping my hips, he bent down and pushed himself into me. Every breath of air left my lungs in a heated rush, chased away by the fullness inside of me. I rested my hands on his chest while his powerful hands lifted my hips slowly, easing me back down inch by inch.

"I waited almost one thousand years for _this_ , for _you_ , Bella," he ground out through his teeth, "to feel _your_ hands on me, _your_ breath on my face as we make love… _your_ heat around me…"

"Please," I cried breathlessly. "Please, Edward, love me like no other."

"Christ's love, I do." Hissing and grunting, he knelt to the hard ground, sitting me on his lap while moving me faster up and down his length. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck as I chased the scorching heat burning me from the inside out, from the tips of my toes to the ends of the hair on my scalp. I closed my eyes, barely able to breathe anymore as the raw pleasure sent waves of ecstasy rippling between my legs to every extremity. And I wondered vaguely if Edward felt our connection as keenly as I did, if it had always been this way for him...for them.

"Feel this, Bella," he groaned. "Feel how perfectly I fill you…how sublimely you fit me…how I love you…like no other. I love you like no other, Bella," he gasped against my neck. I felt his lips pull on the delicate skin of my throat, sucking hard.

"Edward…" I whimpered, "do it, _please_."

He moaned as if in physical pain. "No, not now."

"Why not?" I asked, opening my eyes. "What more…?"

The rest of my thought died in my throat as I looked around the green grass meadow into which we'd wandered and saw it was now overgrown with golden stalks billowing in the breeze. The field encircled us - tall, thin stems stroking our skin as we made love. In the distance, the snow-peaked mountains were now rolling hills meeting white clouds on the horizon. Bewildered, I looked above me. The Cherry-blossom tree's flowers floated around us like pure, pristine snow.

Edward's eyes were closed, lost to his own ecstasy while his hips ground into mine. His flushed cheeks were hot and ruddy. Beads of perspiration lined his furrowed brow. The thin scar on his face looked darker, wider…fresher. He opened his eyes and gazed at me, grinning lustily, hips pushing and pulling. His…cloak lay open over his golden-haired chest and his…breeches were around his ankles, green eyes bright and completely _human_.

When he shut his eyes again, I just stared, unable to make a sound as the warm air blowing through the stalks caressed me, carrying the scent of ripe wheat, like bread baking in an oven. Edward's pliable thighs moved under me. Every color, every sensation, every image was as vivid as if I was right there - not in one of my fading dreams…but suddenly transported to another reality.

" _Bella…"_

"Edward, look!"

His eyes opened in alarm, hips stilling as he followed the trajectory of my gaze, bluish-green eyes growing wide.

"What the…?"

"Edward?" I palmed his soft cheek, slowly guiding his eyes back to me, breathing out in mystification when they were still the soft, tender green of...Sir Edward, the son of the mason.

"Edward…Edward, you're…human."

"Bella, how are you doing this?"

I swept my eyes around the fields of wheat, the trees' white flower petals billowing and turning the landscape ivory.

"You see this, Edward? You see _me_ , Bella Cullen?"

"Of course, I do. But we're in...we're in England," he whispered. "In the England of one thousand years ago. These are the Yorkshire moors and fields behind our cottage. _How_ are we here, Bella?" He palmed his face. "And how am I…?" he trailed off.

Completely still, we looked around in mutual fascination. The warm breeze continued whistling in our ears. The stalks of wheat stroked our skin. When we met one another's puzzled gazes again, his eyes were black.

"Your eyes are black again," I breathed, smiling despite my incomprehension, stroking Edward's cheek in wonder.

I looked away from him once more only to see that the majestic mountains of the Northern Cascades were once again behind him, Mount Rainier's snow-covered peak rising prominently above the rest.

"Look."

"Christ's love, the mountains are back," he snorted.

The wheat field was gone as well, and as Edward's gaze, black as night, swept back to me, a grin spread across his face. He crushed his mouth to mine, his hips resuming their rhythmic thrusts, faster now.

"You're amazing, Bella. You're amazing," he murmured in my ear. "What more proof do you want of who you are? What more do you want?"

"I want…I want… _all_ your love and devotion in every single form you've ever taken," I cried out.

"You have my eternal love in every form, human or vampire, that I take." He groaned, tightening his hold on me. I wrapped my body around his and squeezed my eyes shut. When I reopened them, the wheat fields were back again.

Edward just laughed. "Now I'm getting dizzy."

"Me too," I laughed in return.

Gripping my hips, he held me prone, making our laughter morph into guttural groans. His groan became a growl, a deep, loud rumble that turned into a roar before vibrating through me as he threw his head to the sky. I threw my own head against his chest as the indescribable heat of his orgasm and the thrill of his roar coursed throughout my body and made that coil inside me snap yet again. At that moment, I couldn't have cared less what landscape surrounded us. We could've been in the middle of quicksand for all I cared.

Sated, we fell sideways onto the dewy grass, panting and laughing. Edward pulled me onto his chest, where I remained immobile, trying to catch my breath. Finally lifting my head, I looked around and then resumed my position, resting my ear over his heart, a heart which I'd felt beating against mine just moments earlier.

"We're back in the mountains," I murmured.

"How in the name of all that's holy did you do that?"

"I have no idea except that…I vaguely wondered when was the last time you made love out in the open."

He was quiet for a few moments, his fingers gently raking through my hair. "We were in the wheat fields the evening before Lord Karles returned from London." He flipped us so that he hovered above me, grinning softly, his hands holding my back off of the ground. "Try it again. Try…taking us back to a day in your childhood. I would love to see how a daughter of ours might have looked."

His eyes had returned to their normal shade of green, not the soft, human shade of green interspersed with flickers of blue rimmed by pale brown but the almost unnaturally bright, glowing green.

I nodded, cradling his jaw. Once again, I shut my eyes and concentrated on random moments from my childhood: my dad running next to me as he let go of my bike the first time I rode without training wheels, my young eyes nervously taking in the surroundings on my first day of kindergarten, even the fuzzy memory of a boy with dark, curly hair who made my ten-year-old heart go pitter patter.

When I reopened my eyes, we were exactly where we'd been moments earlier: Edward hovered above me, waiting.

"I'm sorry. I have no idea how I did it before."

"It's all right," he smiled tenderly. "I suppose at this point, it's not really important."

"Edward," I exhaled, "I know we only have a few hours left before the solstice, and I know there are so many more important things we should've been doing than-"

He cut me off with an urgent kiss, sucking hungrily first on my top lip and then my bottom.

"I apologize if I made it sound as if your gift is unimportant or as if making love with you isn't absolutely everything to me. I simply meant that at this point, I am ready. _We_ are ready, Bella. The rest of your gifts can be developed once we get past the solstice. Right now, we're doing exactly what we should be doing." He pushed his hand through my hair. "Bella…I want you to know that despite everything, these past few months have been the happiest of my entire existence."

"Will you miss the way making love to me feels when I'm no longer human?"

He grinned, but then his deep green eyes bored into mine, and suddenly, I knew what his answer would be even before he said it. I could _feel_ it.

"Bella, I will love you in any form, human or immortal, in any age."

"You will, won't you?" I smiled. "You looked at _me,_ at Bella Cullen, through human eyes and loved _me_."

"Yes," he chuckled as if that should've been obvious. "Yes. In any form in which you and I exist."

"I believe it, Edward. And so will I," I finally managed to say. "I saw you as a human and loved you as much as I love you as a vampire. You and I…we _are_ just getting started, aren't we?"

"Yes, Bella, yes." He pulled me into his chest and wrapped his powerful arms around me, infusing me with his love and strength and…faith. For a while, he kept sighing my name almost wistfully, over and over.

"Come," he said eventually. "Let's return, or they'll send out a search party for us."

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook: Stories by PattyRose**

 **I'll see you guys on Friday. :)**


	29. Chapter 28 - The Beautiful Ones

**A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts. It was great to hear from you guys again. Some of you made me laugh with your comments. Yes, I suppose I did return with a "bang." ;)**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes.**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is all mine.**

* * *

 **Chapter 28 – The Beautiful Ones**

 _"You enjoy these trees."_

 _"I do. They're a symbol of life and nature – a reminder of how it's all connected."_

 _"Where I come from, the branches of the cherry trees bloomed with white flowers instead of pink, and the trees themselves were revered, once believed to have special powers."_

 _"They were once believed to be witch's trees. Yes, I've heard the medieval folklore."_

 _"And, of course, you don't believe in folklore. You're a modern-day woman."_

I chuckled softly at the memory of what now seemed like a long-ago conversation between Edward and me. We'd been on campus under a canopy of pink-flowered, cherry-blossom trees. The exchange took place before I knew anything of any significance. It may as well have taken place in another life.

The trees were indeed witch's trees. As I'd seen in my _vision_ , for lack of a better word, while making love with a human Edward, he and Bellaria's cottage had been surrounded by the trees, even though they were unaware of the trees' symbolism. What's more, even before _I'd_ known what they meant, when on campus, I enjoyed spending as much time as possible under them. And my mom, Esme, directed us to a cabin where only a short hike away, these same trees grew on a mountain where they shouldn't have existed.

A few hours after Edward and I discovered the large, cherry-blossom tree grove, I found myself back there alone, sitting under one of the the trees and seeking…something. A short while earlier, Edward had left for a final hunt before the solstice. Emmett accompanied me to the grove, but I'd asked him to remain just beyond the trees to allow me as much privacy as I'd get with the rest of the vampires strategically situated around the perimeter.

Nevertheless, I wasn't exactly sure for _what_ I'd need privacy. All I knew was that seeing Edward in his human form had made me feel completely different. Initially, I'd felt as if I'd shed an old layer of skin or removed a burdensome piece of clothing. I felt as if a nagging fly had finally buzzed away. I no longer envied Bellaria because Edward loved _me_. He lived for me, and I believed that truth with my entire soul.

But by the same token, I believed he would _do_ anything and/or _say_ anything to keep me alive, even if it meant telling me that we had the "battle in the bag" when perhaps…we didn't – another little white lie. I knew he'd do anything, even if it meant saying goodbye to _Bellaria_ to protect _me_.

So now I sat on the grass with my legs forming a triangle. The box I'd brought with me was set in the space between my thighs. I hoped that the clouds I'd conjured as well as the canopy of flowers floating above me would afford the object within the box adequate protection from the afternoon sun. Either way, this close to the solstice, destroying a priceless artifact was a chance I was willing to take if it meant finding a way to protect Edward and the rest of the vampires.

With gloved hands, I carefully lifted the top off the wooden box and pulled out the Bible, which once belonged to so many women from my bloodline.

Drawing in a deep breath, I flipped the first delicate vellum page to the beginning, to the dedication authored by Rena to Sabella, her newborn daughter:

 **Sabella, Iacobi filia; nata DCCCXXIX anno ab urbe condita.**

(Sabella, daughter of Iakobus – born in the year 76 of Caesar Vespasianus.)

A little white lie indeed. Sabella was _not_ the daughter of Iakobus.

 **Dei ventris mei fructus benedicant et eos a tenebris servent**

 _(May the gods bless the fruit of my womb and spare them from darkness.)_

I supposed that much couldn't be denied. What mother wouldn't want her child, the fruit of her womb, to be spared from darkness? For the next few minutes, I skimmed through the rest of the pages, just as I'd done the first time Emmett gave me Bellaria's Bible, the book which should've gone to her firstborn – her and Edward's firstborn – upon the child's birth. My heart constricted painfully as I rested a hand over my own barren midsection.

I still had no idea what I was looking for or why. Perhaps I hoped that a Bible - and not just any Bible but the Bible that had in its own way been the catalyst for so much of what was happening around me – could further instill me with that which I'd never truly learned. I'd grown up with a research doctor, who'd tried his damnedest to keep me grounded, to keep me from what he wholeheartedly believed was a purely evil supernatural world.

From the beginning, I'd been taught that fact trumped fiction, that the tangible ruled over the intangible. Yes, in the past few months, I'd been presented with so much of the supernatural, of a world I'd never known existed, but it was still a _tangible_ world, and so much of it was _good_. Edward, Jasper, and Emmett: they were vampires, yes, but more than that, they were honorable men. I had powers; I could see them and feel them. I'd learned these things. I'd accepted them.

So, _what_ was I missing?

Closing my eyes, I lifted my head to the darkened sky. "Show me what I'm missing. Please," I added in a show of humbleness. "Help me save them. Help me… _help_ ," I rephrased.

No one spoke. Nothing happened. Not even the air stirred. No magical signs – thunder lightning, a glowing cloud, iridescent rays of sun, or a white dove – appeared from the heavens. Nothing.

"I think I've finally lost that last thread to reality." With a snort, I closed the Bible and stood.

The entire field before me disappeared.

I whipped around toward the mountains only to find myself standing in the middle of a small, dark room where the walls flapped in the breeze, making a sharp, snapping sound. The ground was covered by rugs scattered around an open space. Sacks lining the room overflowed with what appeared to be thick, ancient grains. Two red clay pitchers rested on opposite sides of what was apparently a tent, and hanging from the tent poles were leather satchels dripping water in slow, steady droplets. A primitive-looking oil lamp provided the only meager light, which flickered with every one of the hurried and frenzied footsteps treading outside, the frantic running accompanied by yelling and screaming.

"Emmett? Jasper? Edward!"

Rushing toward the flap opening, I pulled back the material and stepped outside only to quickly stagger backwards.

An arid, barren field stretched in all directions, with only boulders and rocks of varying shapes and sizes breaking the uniformity of the flesh-toned earth. In the sky, a fluorescent full moon backlit the desert, casting a golden glow over the scores of men wielding primitive swords, daggers, and rocks as weapons while dressed in ancient garb. As the swords clinked and crashed, the damage they inflicted sent agonized cries up to the silver and black sky each time they met with flesh. From somewhere behind me and inside the tent, a different type of tortured scream joined the melee. With hands tingling and heart racing, I pushed back the flap and re-entered the tent. Then, I followed the screams past the first room and through a quilt hung on rope which split the main area of the tent's limited space.

Once in the back room, I squinted against the total darkness, yet the woman's screeches continued, intensifying while I waited for my vision to adjust. The entire time, my frame trembled violently, fully expecting some unknown and unseen person to grab me at any moment. Finally, a figure began taking form among the shadows, that person's soothing murmurs joining the anguished screams.

It was a woman, a young teenaged girl kneeling on the dirt floor. She wore a long tunic, and her hair was concealed by a scarf tied around her head. I could now also make out a large mat in front of her. As my eyes further acclimated to the darkness, I realized that another woman was also in the room. She lay on the mat in front of the other female.

The woman on the mat was also quite young, and she wore a similar piece of clothing to the first girl, except her tunic was pushed up past her thighs. Long strands of damp, stringy hair escaped her scarf and lay matted against her face. Her legs were spread open and bent at the knees.

It was she who was screaming.

"Is it coming? Is it coming, Elisheba?" Her hands fisted the mat at either side of her, head thrown back in pained disorientation.

"Yes, it is coming!" the kneeling girl confirmed. "You must push, Nitzevet!"

"But the clan outside," the woman giving birth sobbed, "they have come for my child and will kill it!"

"Forget them!" the girl commanded. "Your husband, my father, and the rest of our clan will fight them, but your child will not wait for the end of the battle! Push! Yes! Yes, the head crowns!"

"Elisheba, look!" With her eyes wide and wild, Nitzevet, pointed behind the young Elisheba. For a split second, I thought she was pointing at _me_ , until Elisheba turned around, and I followed the trajectory of both women's shocked gazes.

The remaining events happened so quickly that it was only later that I made sense of all of them.

Again, Nitzevet screamed, but this was a scream born of pure terror as two frighteningly familiar men rushed forward.

Instinctively, I lifted my hands and extended my fingers. At the same time, Elisheba jumped to her feet, protectively extending one hand toward the small head crowning between its mother's legs, and pointing the other hand, five fingers spread outward, toward the men. The power which instantly surged from her fingers rippled through the air like a jet stream. It sent the men reeling back with a massive thud, pinning them to the dirt floor.

The men howled as Elisheba's eyes shifted bewilderedly between them and her hand as if she had absolutely no clue how she'd done what she'd just done.

"Elisheba, what have you done?" one of the men cried, echoing what seemed to be her own thought. "It is I, your father, Karel! Allow this man through, and he vows to spare the rest of us!"

"Father, no!" Elisheba stared in abject horror at her father, at…Karel, a man who resembled another man I'd seen in my dreams and more recently on TV as Acting Seattle Police Chief, Charles Swan.

"I order you to allow him access to the child!" Karel roared. "He and his clan will not only let the rest of us live, but he will take you as his wife and make _me_ his second in command!"

"No!" Elisheba screeched. The stream of power surging from her fingers intensified. The two men wailed in pure agony, writhing on the dirt ground.

At the same time, Nitzevet released a long, agonized moan. Her back arched off the mat. "Elisheba, the child…I cannot hold it in any longer!"

Elisheba knelt once more before Nitzevet, all the while keeping her hand extended toward the thrashing men. As the child erupted from its mother in one long motion, Elisheba caught it with only her free hand and cradled it in her forearm.

"I have him!" Elisheba exclaimed. "I have him, Nitzevet, and it is a boy!"

Wordlessly, Nitzevet closed her knees and threw back her head, her back melting into the mat in relief. Elisheba cocooned the newborn child between her chest and her free arm, cooing softly at him. Bittersweet tears stung my eyes in spite of the danger still surrounding the women and child. The newborn's healthy, lusty screams joined the mayhem both inside and outside the tent.

When Nitzevet appeared to gather some strength, she lifted herself onto one elbow. As she spoke, her voice was merely a raspy whisper.

"Elisheba, please hand me my son. I must hold him. I must hold my _Dawid_."

Carefully, with her hand still extended towards the squirming men who were still struggling to free themselves from her invisible bonds, Elisheba placed the child in his mother's waiting arms. Nitzevet held him pressed to her heart, shutting her eyes and moving her mouth around silent words. And when she reopened her eyes, they were no longer half-lidded in exhaustion, but full of a scorching fury. Her voice was no longer a strangled whisper but clear and strong.

"My son has been born under a full moon on this, the first day of the solstice. His stars are aligned and clear in the sky. You, Elisheba, have preserved him and the possibilities found within those stars. Likewise, your bloodline, along with all its possibilities, will now be preserved as well."

"I…I do not know how I have done this," Elisheba said.

"Your power is gifted you in recognition for what is in your heart; thus, it will remain in your bloodline for what you have done this night. Your descendants will be exalted," Nitzevet claimed. "The women in your bloodline will have great abilities, abilities which will one day join with those of the Beautiful Ones."

Elisheba's breath hitched. "No! It is impossible! The Elders teach us that the Beautiful Ones were brothers, who were first sent to guide mortals. However, they found pleasure in laying with women, which was forbidden them. For their disobedience, the Beautiful Ones were hunted and taken from the earth. Those few who remained hid in darkness and were forced to subsist on the blood of mortals!"

"It is true," Nitzevet said. At her breast, her son fed eagerly. "They were taken one by one until only two remained. One of these immortal creatures has this night attempted to kill my innocent son and end his mighty bloodline." Her eyes narrowed, and she turned them on the enemy clansman - tall, dark-skinned, well-built, and…undeniably beautiful.

"Where is your brother?" she demanded of him.

"He is a coward," the man snarled. "We were promised eternal beauty and strength. We were promised no more subsistence on mere blood, no more hiding. We were promised power beyond our imaginings if we killed your son and took the girl, for she was meant for much." He leered at Elisheba. "But _he_ did not have the stomach for it. He has always been the weaker of us," the man snorted.

"That remains to be seen. The fate of the Beautiful Ones has always lain within the blood of mortals. Now, it rests in Elisheba's bloodline and in her newfound gifts."

"I will use these gifts to kill this Beautiful One in front of me!" Elisheba proclaimed.

The stream of power surging from her fingers grew, glowing in the darkness and morphing from shades of red to orange to blue. I stared in fascination. The man…the man whom in my time I knew as Jake…Jakob, recoiled and bellowed, head thrown back as his shrieks filled the small tent.

After what felt like a lifetime, he dropped his head. And even though his body continued contorting and shuddering, he chuckled.

"You cannot kill me," he taunted Elisheba. "Only one force on this earth may kill an immortal, and it is _not_ your hands," he sneered.

"No, she cannot kill you," Nitzevet confirmed. "It is not for _her_ to kill you." The rest, she decreed calmly and clearly. "Immortal one, you will be punished for millennia for what you have attempted under the moon of this night. You and your followers sold your souls for eternal beauty and strength, and beauty and strength is what you shall have, yet you will pay dearly for it. You will be feared. You will be hated. Your true form will bring disgust to those who behold it, and though you will no longer need mortal blood to survive, the atrocities which you commit against others will become your legacy. Only on nights such as this, when the moon has rounded in the sky, will you be beautiful. In between, you and your clansmen will be monstrous beasts. And only on the days when the sun is highest in the sky, will you be at your strongest."

The Beautiful One remained defiant. "Even if I cannot take your son on this night," he snarled, "I _will_ take _her_." He grinned at Elisheba. "I will join my strength with her powers and together, she and I will create a being more powerful than any which will ever come from _your_ bloodline!" Perhaps emboldened by the fact that Elisheba had been unable to kill him, he attempted to lunge for her.

Again, he flew backwards, landing hard on his back once more.

"You know full well that my son's bloodline will have no equal," Nitzevehet said. "And you see? Even now, Elisheba's powers grow stronger. But yes, you will have your chance to join with Elisheba's descendants. We mortals have been given free will. Yet, when Elisheba's bloodline splits and rejoins, it will create a woman powerful enough to end the existence of your _entire_ clan."

She then turned her disgusted sneer toward Elisheba's father. "And you, Karel, were one of our own. This night, you have betrayed your own people and aligned yourself with these evil beings. For that, you will repeat your existence every millennium, and you will share in these beasts' final fate, whatever that may be. Now, leave our sight! You are a plague upon the air my son breathes!"

Another surge of energy in colors I'd never seen and could never attempt to describe erupted from Elisheba's upraised fingers. Then, the men…the creatures who would be known throughout the ages by many different names, howled in pain and dragged themselves on all fours from the tent.

For what felt like hours, I stood in that tent watching numbly while the two women huddled together, forming a protective cage around the child as the fighting outside intensified and then…died down. The women murmured quietly, sang to the child, touched his face, and stroked his hair.

Suddenly, Elisheba gasped and looked up, blue eyes narrowing within a beautiful…and familiar face. She pulled off her head covering and shook out long, golden hair.

Her eyes found mine through the darkness.

"Bella…Bellaria, go! It is time!"

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **Did I lose you again?**

 **Don't worry. It's almost done and ALL will be clear. Promise.**

 **I've taken massive liberties, creative license, carte blanche, and/or any other terms for freely fictionalizing characters which may or may not have existed. Please keep that in mind if you decide to look up the origin of the name "Elisheba," and/or the history of people such as "Nitzevehet" and "Dawid." It's not necessary though. You can just take it all with a (or a few) grain(s) of salt.**

 ****This chapter has been updated with the correct Latin translations for the passage from "The Lady's Bible." Thank you so much, Ciaspola, for your help!**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook: Stories by PattyRose**

 *****Don't forget! We're updating every other day now, so I'll "see" you all on Sunday. Have a great weekend 'til then. :) *****


	30. Chapter 29 - Betrayal

**A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts. I will get back to each of you before the story ends. Promise!**

 **I know it's early on a Sunday, but you all can read in bed! I, on the other hand, promised my Superhero-obsessed daughter I'd take her to see the new Spidey movie this morning, so I figured I'd post beforehand. :)**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes. (Any remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

* * *

 **Chapter 29 – Betrayal**

As soon as Elisheba uttered her warning, she along with Nitzevet and her newborn son disappeared, and I found myself once again surrounded by the enigmatic cherry-blossom trees. But I wasn't back in the meadow or on the mountain.

I was at the University of Washington campus, sitting sedately on warm grass in the middle of the beautiful quad. All around me, students and staff strolled – talking and laughing as they headed to class. If I turned to my right, I could vaguely make out the stunning range of the Cascades far off in the distance. When I looked left, the Olympic Mountains rose majestically against the horizon. Front, center and much closer, the Seattle sun's muted rays hid behind the university's grand structures - the long, narrow summit of the Space Needle peeking out just beyond it all. They were familiar sights, yet as my eyes wandered over the campus's red and white stone Gothic-style library, with its rows of pointed columns, something seemed-

Wait.

Wait, no.

I blinked a few times, then frowned before tilting my head sideways. Finally, my admittedly lethargic mind picked up on the discrepancies. For one, the library was the _only_ structure on campus still constructed in the Collegiate Gothic Style to which I'd grown accustomed since becoming a professor at the University. I swiveled my head from side to side, suddenly disoriented as I took in one glass and steel building after another, all of them finished in a modernistic style I didn't recognize. A few of the buildings even had hologramized images on their side walls displaying campus announcements, reminders of upcoming tests, extra-curricular events, and the like.

"What…the…?"

It hadn't even been a week since Dean Michaels attacked me. How had they rebuilt sections of the campus so quickly?

Rows and rows of cherry blossom trees still lined the quad, and I wondered how they'd replanted them so swiftly? How had they gotten them to bloom despite the fact that spring was over? I took another panoramic glance, focusing on the staff and the students. Now, I discerned something different about them as well, something in their mannerisms, in their clothing, and in their hairstyles.

Edward was suddenly in the distance, walking out from between the line of trees and across the lawn.

"Edward!"

When his eyes found me, he grinned, and my heart gave a thrilled lurch. The abnormalities of the campus were instantly set aside as Edward made his way toward me with purposeful strides. I took in the way the sun shone off of his dark copper hair, his broad shoulders straight and self-assured, the confident gait of his steps, the widening grin as he neared. As he approached, I noticed the brilliant…and _normal_ green of his eyes, the lack of any scars on his face, and the unrecognizable clothing he wore, much like the clothing worn by the rest of the people surrounding me.

And his hand was wrapped around the hand of a young child.

When I blinked, they disappeared.

Behind the space where Edward and the child were just a moment earlier, there were once again trees. Beyond those trees, instead of the quad or the previous meadow, there was now nothing but a black and vacuous landscape. At that moment, a breeze blew. It fanned through my hair and sent the trees' branches swaying, yet it made no sound. Bewildered, I turned around slowly, only to discover a similar sight of emptiness. In the distance, silent lightning struck white-peaked mountains framed by an endless backdrop of…nothing.

"Edward?"

I spoke the word aloud and felt my lungs expel the requisite air for audible intonation. I even felt the echo of the word's vibration as it left my throat, but as it crossed the boundaries of my lips, it too made no sound.

"Edward?"

My heart pounded painfully.

"Emmett!"

I _felt_ myself calling out, but I _heard_ nothing.

Panic welled in my chest, constricting my lungs. My knees weakened. With short and shallow breaths, I turned in dizzying circles. No matter which way I turned, I was encircled by trees, mountains, and lightning fringed by a dismally endless and silent abyss.

"HELLO!" I screamed soundlessly. "CAN ANYONE HEAR ME? PLEASE!"

Fear, frustration, and disbelief nipped my skin and seeped into the tips of my fingers. I threw up my head and screamed at the top of my lungs the way I had in the dean's office as well as when we first arrived in the mountains, both times causing seismic tremors.

This time, however, there was no sound to accompany my fury, and absolutely nothing happened.

The fear rooted my feet to the Nothing under me, even as I considered breaking into a run – exactly to where I had no idea. Everything ahead led to more Nothing. Everything behind me was the same. When something broke through the black curtain in the distance and caused a disturbance in the trees' branches, I raised my hands high and pointed, waiting.

At first, I recognized the ambiguous figure as a person solely through its general outline – a head, a torso, two arms, and legs. Yet with every step it took, the space surrounding the shape lit up and glowed as if it were a beacon pulling daylight forward with it. As it neared, the shape took on a more defined silhouette. I could make out a milky white skirt suit on a figure of a similar height to me. She had long, dark hair and pale, creamy skin. Her smooth arms stretched outward, but she wasn't emulating my threatening stance. Her hands reached forward…

" _Bella…do not allow fear and disbelief to blind you or hold you bound…"_

In this Nothing world, her words echoed in my head, her voice achingly familiar.

The figure drew closer. "Mo- Mom?" I stuttered.

Then, as if breaking through a watery surface, I was all at once inundated with sound.

"Bella!"

I sucked in a long, sharp breath as the woman disappeared, and Emmett's powerful hands wrapped around my shoulders, shaking me. I was _finally_ back in the meadow.

"Bella!"

"Emmett," I exhaled. My shoulders sagged wearily, weighed down by all I'd seen until I remembered Elisheba's dire warning. "Emmett! Emmett, it's time!"

"Time? Time for what?"

"For the battle!"

"Shh." He shook his head. "No."

"Yes!"

"No, Bella. You're confused. Look around." He gestured over his shoulder. "The sun hasn't even set."

"But she told me it was time!" I insisted.

" _Who_ told you?"

My mind was still in a muddled state as I looked over Emmett's shoulder and took in my surroundings once again. Blades of green grass swayed to and fro while a soft breeze whistled through pink-flowered trees. The sun, dim and low over the mountains, rested in a greyish-blue sky framed by pewter-toned clouds - typical, normal, gauzy clouds.

At some point, the Lady's Bible had slipped out of my hands. Now, it lay open-faced on the dewy grass. I retrieved it and wiped it off, cringing when minuscule pieces of delicate, yellow vellum crumbled against my fingertips and turned to dust. Cradling it against my chest, I ignored the wooden case which had once kept the Bible safe but now lay uselessly at my feet.

"Are you sure it's not time?" My chest heaved.

" _Yes_ ," he reassured me. "I'm sure."

I drew in another long breath. "Okay. Okay, either way, we have to get to Edward right away."

When I took off running, Emmett effortlessly kept pace.

"Bella, wait. What happened? What did you see? You were…"

"I was what?"

He frowned. "You started screaming, and when I approached, I found you in some sort of trance. Then you spoke, but it was as if you were a one-woman show playing multiple parts."

"I was somewhere very long ago, on the night of the solstice." I maintained my pace, refusing to stop or slow down even as I spoke. "A young woman named Elisheba helped a woman named Nitzevet give birth while in the middle of a battle."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on for a minute." He reached for my arm and brought me to a stop. "What battle?"

I tried to shake off his grip, but it may as well have been an iron shackle around my arm. "Emmett, we have to go!"

"Just tell me what the hell you're talking about! Who are Elisheba and Nitzevet, and what battle?"

I exhaled impatiently. "I don't know exactly what battle, but Emmett, Elisheba was our ancestor! She was the first one in our bloodline with powers. They were gifted to her for saving Nitzevet's son from Elisheba's own traitorous father and from the leader of the enemy clan, who came to kill the baby – a baby whose bloodline apparently surpassed all others."

He held my gaze. "Bella, at one point, I heard you say, _Karel._ The name translates into Karolus or Karles." He paused. "And to Charles."

I nodded wildly. "Yes! Yes, Karel was Elisheba's father. All those people have been reincarnations of Karel, from the very beginning."

"My God," he breathed. "So the leader of the enemy clan…was it-"

"Yes, Emmett!" I grabbed his forearm. "It was Jakob! He was there from the very beginning as well, and he was punished for trying to kill the child! He and his clan were turned into shifters and werewolves, cursed to wander the earth, their beauty and strength diminishing except during the full moon and most especially, during the solstice! Karel's punishment came in the form of continuous reincarnations where he would relive his betrayal and eventually share in whatever Jakob's final fate may be."

"Elisheba…" Emmett murmured. "The name is the first known form of the name _Elizabeth_ , of which the names _Isabella_... _Bellaria_ and _Bella_ are also variants."

I fisted my hair as I struggled to make sense of everything. At the same time, my need to understand immediately warred with my desperation to get to Edward.

"Emmett, have you ever heard of The Beautiful Ones?"

"Only vague references," he shrugged, "myths and legends of fallen angels."

"Nitzevet said Elisheba's bloodline would join with that of the Beautiful Ones."

Emmett stared at me blankly.

"Yes, Emmett, the Beautiful Ones were fallen angels, punished for a primordial transgression by being taken from the Earth. Those who remained hid and were forced to feed on the blood of mortals for sustenance."

Emmett's eyes grew wide. "Then…they were the original immortals."

I nodded. "Eventually, only two were left. One of them, though he fed from mortals, never truly turned to darkness. The other…was Jakob."

"No, that's impossible. That would mean that-"

"It means that vampires and werewolves descend from the same beings, yes. Emmett, you created Jasper and Edward, but _who_ created you?"

He shook his head. "I don't know, Bella."

"But you must have some sort of idea! In one thousand years, you must've developed some theory!"

"I DON'T KNOW!"

The frustrated boom of his voice echoed throughout the forest. He clenched his jaw, grinding it from side to side before continuing. "I truly don't know, Bella, but I've always felt…an awareness, as if whoever turned me has been watching the three of us since the very beginning. In the course of my existence, and most especially since we found you, I've come to believe that there was a very specific reason why that boar ran through me, why I was turned, and why Karles…our father, was allowed to kill you."

A cold chill ran up my spine. Abruptly, those glowing blue eyes I'd seen in more than one of my visions at Castle Swein flashed through my mind. And then…an older vision returned to me, one I hadn't been able to make sense of when I'd first seen it in dreams. It was a vision of a man lying next to a woman as she slept, his thirst so unbearable that I could feel it. His struggle not to bite her was almost Herculean in its intensity…and his blue eyes were glowing in the darkness.

"I think you're right. I think he, whoever he may be, has been watching us all along, waiting to see how everything unfolds."

Again, I turned from Emmett, breaking into a full dash. But Emmett once more pulled me to a stop.

"Damn it, Emmett, we have to get to the cabin and speak with Edward!"

"Bella, I can carry you, and we'll get there much faster, but first, tell me what you're thinking."

My hands clenched at my sides. "The Beautiful One who joined with Elisheba's bloodline, he must've been Rena's gypsy. That's why he remained so hidden, so enigmatic through everything that happened, and that's why Rena said the gypsy's blood strengthened her bloodline." I suddenly saw everything so clearly.

"It makes sense," Emmett nodded.

"Nitzevet said that Jakob would also get his chance to join with our bloodline. She prophesized it, and apparently, you can't escape prophecy no matter how hard you try."

He held my gaze. "Bella, I don't believe that the world is the completely random place that you and Jasper have always held it to be, but neither do I believe that it's entirely pre-destined. There must be a middle ground, an order which allows free choice. I believe _we_ shape our lives within that order. A good friend once said, _It is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves_."

"Shakespeare."

Emmett nodded.

I sighed. "Nitzevet did say something about the _possibilities_ within our stars; she didn't claim they were _certainties,_ so perhaps…" I bit my lip. "Emmett, at some point in their lives, many of the women in our bloodline said things that sounded like prophecies…but what if they aren't prophecies. What if they're possibilities instead?"

Emmett's eyes narrowed.

"Bellaria…she saw things in her final moments," I said, remembering her visions. "She saw Edward as a vampire. And she saw Edward in another setting I still can't figure out. And Rena, right before Vesuvius erupted, repeated much of Nitzevet's curse from a thousand years earlier. And right before Bellaria's mother, Resmae, died from childbirth, she wrote, 'spare my children the fate of my visions.' And my mom, according to Carlisle had one final request, which was for him to bring me here. In their final moments, all these women made decries. What I don't know is whether they saw what would certainly be, or were they possibilities that exist within the framework of the prophecies?"

Emmett's features took on a meditative expression. "Birth and death have always been closely linked, which is why throughout the ages, there have been so many similar rituals marking both," he ruminated. "Some ancient cultures actually believed that those moments in which a woman gave birth were the most powerful moments in her existence, for she was in between the plains of life and death – giving life to a new being while risking her own life in childbirth."

I narrowed my eyes pensively. "It was in these moments, amid life and death, that the eyes of the gifted women of our bloodline were first opened. Elisheba witnessed the birth of Nitzevet's child and discovered her power. Rena gave birth to her child, Lady Resmae to Bellaria, and my mom…God knows how many others within our ancestry saw things during childbirth. And it was in the moments right before each of their deaths that they had visions of what was to come." My eyes widened with the realization. "The birth of a child opens our eyes to what we are…but it's our death that opens our eyes to what's coming!"

"What are you saying, Bella?" Emmett's nostrils flared. "Are you implying that you can change this prophecy, this curse, but you have to cheat death in order to figure out how? That was _not_ what I was implying when I suggested we could still change things."

"No. No, of course not."

"Edward will _never_ allow you to risk yourself, and neither will _I_ ," he hissed.

I shook my head. "Allow me? First of all, Emmett, calm down. Second, it's pretty useless figuring out the answer to a question right before you die. Of course, I know that."

He eyed me suspiciously.

"Nitzevet said more. She said, _When the bloodline splits and rejoins…_ What does that mean? _When the bloodline splits and rejoins_ … When has the bloodline split and rejoined?"

"All the births are in Mother's Bible, aren't they?" he said, glancing down at the book clutched tightly in my hands.

With much less care than it deserved, I opened the Lady's Bible and leafed through the first pages, ignoring the continuous stab of guilt as pieces of pages disintegrated between my fingers.

"It doesn't make sense. According to these entries, the bloodline never split. There has always been only one female birth per generation."

"Perhaps you misunderstood what you heard in your vision," Emmett suggested.

"Maybe," I muttered, leafing back to the first entry, the one made by Rena. The page was now partially destroyed, faded and fragmented by the elements along with my uncovered, clumsy fingers.

 _"May the gods bless the fruit of my womb and spare them from darkness,"_ I read, filling in the decayed parts from memory _. "May the gods bless the fruit of my womb and spare them from darkness,"_ I repeated, furrowing my brow. _"May the gods bless the fruit of my womb…and…spare them…spare…_ _ **them**?" _ I looked back up at Emmett. _"It said_ _them_ _, right?"_

 _"_ Yeah. Yeah, it did."

"Who is _them_ _?"_

"Rena's descendants, I would assume."

Over and over, I repeated the line to myself, uneasiness growing with each consecutive iteration. "If she was writing a dedication to her child, why would she include any other descendants?" I flipped through the pages. "See? No one else here did that. No one else asked for a blessing for their descendants in addition to their child. It was left for each mother to seek blessings for her own children."

"I have no idea, then, Bella," Emmett said.

"It has to be somewhere. Maybe it was recorded in some other obscure scripts kept elsewhere."

"What exactly is _it_ , Bella?"

"I…I'm not sure."

Biting my lip fiercely, I closed my eyes again, trying with all my might to cast my mind back to what I read of Rena's childbirth. She'd been anxious because her daughter, Sabella, was being taken to meet with Iakobus, the garwalf, who believed himself the child's father. If he ever found out he wasn't the father…if he ever suspected who the father might be…I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, and…an image began forming in my mind…Rena had cried out again…

"Bella, look!"

When I opened my eyes, I saw that the sun had dipped lower and was now hiding behind Emmett's shoulders, beginning its downward trek for the evening.

"Shit, the sun is setting."

"It's too early for the sun to set," Emmett frowned darkly.

"We have to get to Edward, Jasper, and my dad. Between the five of us, we have to figure this out before solar noon tomorrow."

"Okay, let's return to the cabin. Edward should be back and will be waiting for you."

OOOOOOOOOO

As the minutes passed, the woods grew increasingly darker. What's more, it felt as if the air was cooling earlier than usual, evening approaching at an alarming speed. With every breath I took, a white swirl of mist danced in front of my mouth.

Emmett held me cradled in his arms as he swiftly ran toward the cabin. "It shouldn't be this dark or this cold yet," I pointed out.

His features were set in stony wariness, yet he said nothing.

By the time we broke into the cabin's clearing, thick, large snowflakes were falling all around us. Even for June, snow wasn't an unusual event here, but it hadn't snowed at all until now.

Eleazar and Renata, two of Edward's most trusted vampires, paced in front of the cabin. From the angle in which we approached, I could see a couple more circling around the back: Chelsea and Henri.

"Hi Eleazar," I said stiffly as Emmett set me down. "Is Edward inside?"

He nodded. "He's waiting for you."

"Thank you."

I made my way past them and through the door, immediately spotting my dad and Jasper in the middle of the room. By this point, I was so anxious that it didn't strike me as strange that they just stood there. It didn't register until it was a fraction of a second too late.

"Jasper, Dad, where's Ed-"

Simultaneously, Emmett pinned my hands behind my back while Jasper rushed me. Before I could react, my eyes and my mouth were covered, and my fingers were tightly bound. It was all done with inhuman speed, yet they were careful not to hurt me. The bindings were secure. I was blind, and I couldn't make a sound above a gagged whimper.

The heat of betrayal burned through my veins, pounding painfully in my chest and throbbing roughly in my temples.

"We're sorry, Bella," Emmett said, his voice apologetic. "We're so sorry, but it's for your own good." He carried me as he spoke, depositing me onto a soft surface I knew was the couch.

From a few feet away, Jasper spoke next. It was his words which pulverized my heart.

"My lady, Edward has asked Emmett and me to remain here with you and your father throughout the night. He has asked us to keep you safe."

He'd known. He'd… _requested_ it.

"Try to understand, it's only because he loves you so deeply. Now, I know despite your anger, you'll be concerned for him as well," Jasper continued as if he could guess my thoughts. "But don't worry. Half of us are here guarding the perimeter around the cabin, but the other half are with him."

Hot tears trekked down my face.

"Bella, honey, I know this must feel like a horrible betrayal," my dad said. "I imagine it must be terrifying and infuriating all at once, but we- _all_ of us just want your well-being. Edward has assured me that he has everything under control. He promised that he wouldn't let _anyone_ get through, and once the night is over, everything will be fine. Yes, we'll all have to disappear for a while, but everyone will be safe."

My broken whimpers and cries of fury were barely audible. I tried to move my fingers, to scream at the top of my lungs, but it was useless. _I_ was useless. And Edward…Edward was somewhere out there with only half of his vampire friends, unaware of everything I now knew.

For hours, I writhed over the couch, hurling muffled curses through my restraints. Whenever a burst of fury would overtake me and I'd struggle against my bindings, one or another pair of strong arms would carefully encircle me until I tired myself out. Then I'd rest and try again.

Eventually, I shifted strategies. I begged and pleaded. When that didn't work, I cried. But I suppose it all sounded the same - indistinguishable, a bunch of strangled, meaningless, and indistinct whimpers. I vacillated between terrified and livid, desperate and frantic. Indignantly, I jerked away whenever someone, usually my dad, tried to comfort me. Every now and then, people would walk in and out. I heard quick, unintelligible whispers from across the room, and I knew the vampires were discussing whatever was going on outside of the cabin. They exchanged information as if I wasn't even there, which simply multiplied my fury.

"Just try to get some rest, Bella," my father murmured. "Edward is keeping an eye on everything, and he'll be back soon."

I wanted to tell him how wrong he was to be a part of this betrayal, how this would've never been my mother's intention or what she must've envisioned when she requested we come up to the mountains, to this cabin. She could've never imagined that I'd end up bound and tied while others risked their lives for me. This was not what the women of my bloodline did. They never cowered behind others.

 _Bella…do not allow fear and disbelief to blind you or hold you bound…_

When I opened my eyes, I was no longer restrained nor was I blinded or silenced. Neither was I on the couch or in the cabin.

Instead, I sat on a wooden chair at a small desk in the Seattle Central Library, surrounded by stacks and stacks of books. Through the large floor-to-ceiling windows, I could see the sun setting behind the Space Needle as it cast a soft, warm glow on the empty floor. From in between two large stacks, a woman appeared, familiar and beautiful. She walked towards me with her arms open.

"Mom," I choked, "I didn't recognize you all those weeks ago, the day I came to the library."

She cradled my face in her tender palms. "Bella," she smiled, "don't allow fear and frustration to blind you or to hold you bound. You are close to limitless when you let go of your fear and disbelief."

"Please, Mom, show me what book in here holds the rest of the story. Edward…he's out there without answers, and I need to know the answers to help him."

"My love," she cooed, "the answers aren't in any book. To keep her safe, and by extension to keep _you_ safe, they were never written anywhere."

"To keep whom safe?"

Just as she'd done in my vision earlier, she reached out, but this time, Esme softly tapped my temple, her touch warm and soothing.

"It's in here. It's always been in here, carried from one woman to the next until it reached the right one, the chosen one. Shh," she cooed. "Let go of your fear and disbelief, and simply close your eyes."

I closed my eyes as my mother instructed. Yet fear wrapped itself around my heart. Frustration and desperation made the tips of my fingers tingle.

"I need to get to Edward!"

"Let go," she whispered. "It's all in here if you let go."

Behind my closed lids, I pictured myself floating above my body, looking down. I saw myself sitting in the middle of the library, completely alone with my mother. I saw my mom with her hands cradled around my face, smiling gently. I inhaled and pictured Edward with his dark eyes intently on me. Then, I remembered him with soft green, human eyes, just as intense as he made love with me in the middle of a field while the trees above us bloomed.

Suddenly, I once again saw a woman giving birth. This time, however, a lush, green mountain stood majestically in the background.

"The child is crowning, my lady!" the servant girl whispered fiercely. She was dressed in Roman clothing a few ages more modern than the ancient garb worn by Elisheba and Nitzevet. As she stood between the woman's parted legs, her arms were extended and ready so when the child arrived, the servant girl caught it quickly and performed all the necessary actions. Then grabbing a sheet off the bed, she wrapped the child and cradled it against her chest, muffling its newborn cries.

"A girl, my lady," she whispered. "It is another girl!"

The woman on the bed…Rena, threw back her head. She remained that way for a handful of seconds, her mouth moving silently. Then she dropped her head and met the servant girl's gaze.

"You must take her!" she hissed. "You must flee Pompeii with her and never look back! You must raise her as your own!"

"My lady, I am but a poor servant!"

"And you will find your strength now and become a mother - _her_ mother, for I cannot be!" Rena's voice broke. "If my husband discovers that the girls are not his, and if he discovers that the bloodline has split, then he will surely kill them both!"

The servant girl swallowed, protectively pressing the child tighter to her chest. Despite the fear in her eyes, there was an instant love blossoming in them as well.

"I do not know how to be a mother, but I will guard her with my life, my lady!"

Rena nodded, and a soft yet heart-wrenching whimper escaped her. "You will learn how to be her mother. Now, give her to me, please. Allow me to hold her just once."

Carefully, the servant girl handed the child to her birth mother. Rena pulled back the sheet cocooning her child to reveal a small, angelic face with round blue eyes framed in silky blond downy - just like her own. Thick tears skimmed Rena's weary face. She ghosted her lips over the child's almost translucent forehead.

"My darling _Rosalia_ , my hidden love," she murmured against the newborn's soft skin, "you and your descendants shall _always_ know this in your souls. You and your sister, Sabella, are the future of our bloodline. I send you away to spare you the garwalf's fury, but no matter where you may be, you will always be in my heart." Sobbing quietly, she met the babe's eyes. "And know this as well: as firstborn, your sister's line will host the birth of our bloodline's chosen one, the woman who will meet the immortal half of her own soul. But you, my love, will be no less special. For the prophecy claims the line will split and rejoin. When it is time, your line will host that chosen one's _rebirth_."

Events flashed behind my closed eyelids. Images rushed through my mind of the servant girl boarding a ship with a bundle held protectively in her arms. Next, a blond, blue-eyed little girl ran around in Roman clothing. Then, another image showed a blond, blue-eyed girl boarding another ship in different clothing. As quickly as one image faded, another emerged. Now, I saw another little girl, blond and blue eyed as well, who traveled down a dirt road with the rest of her people. Throughout my visions, time continued to pass as I watched the bloodline continue to multiply.

Thirty-nine generations of women from Isabella's bloodline flashed before my eyes.

Then…the fortieth generation: a young girl appeared, dressed in a peasant frock of the High Middle Ages. As she ran through the cobbled streets, her young face changed and transformed, grew older and into that of a young woman, a blond and blue-eyed young woman. She looked at something, at someone, with a soft smile on her beautiful face, her eyes overflowing with love…

As Rosalie gazed adoringly at Emmett, I gasped. Yet the flashes didn't cease. They continued bombarding me, one after the other.

Now, Rosalie, descendant of Rosalia, stood with Bellaria, who was the fortieth generation in Sabella's bloodline, and who had met her soulmate who would become her immortal other half. My vision showed the two of them in front of the abbey where Rosalie went to collect the food and clothing Bellaria secretly gave her after Emmett's death. Bellaria… _I_ leaned forward and pulled back the blanket covering the child in Rosalie's arms. I saw the cherub-faced baby girl. I felt myself stroking the baby's blond hair. I gazed into her dark eyes, just like her father's…like my brother's…like mine.

When my eyes popped open, Renee… _Esme_ , stood before me.

"Mom, Emmett and Rosalie's daughter was the one who reunified the bloodline."

"And the bloodline grew stronger and stronger with each successive generation, until forty generations later, when-"

I drew in a sharp breath.

I was blind again, a scarf still tied around my eyes and a gag in my mouth. The seat under me was the soft cushion of the couch in the cabin. Something had broken through my vision, through the focus required to maintain it.

Hissed whispers were being urgently exchanged across the cabin, and now I could hear them.

"Where were they seen?"

"North on the I-5. Still about a half hour away."

"We should be there," Jasper barely mouthed. "The solstice is their night more than ours. And if what Bella saw is correct, then _he_ is the most ancient of ancients…and stronger than us. We _should_ be there."

"Edward wanted us to stay here with my sister, especially after I told him all she saw. If Jakob _is_ the ancient of ancients, then her powers may not work against him," Emmett replied.

"There's only one way to find out!" Jasper hissed.

"He won't risk it!" Emmett hissed in return. "He won't risk _her_ , and neither will I!"

"Bella, are you okay?"

My dad sounded concerned, his voice close, and I pictured him sitting on the chair across from me.

… _don't allow fear and disbelief to blind you or hold you bound…_

… _blind you or hold you bound…_

… _hold you bound…_

Fear and disbelief had held me bound since the very beginning. I'd allowed both emotions to grow and fester, to blind me to who Edward was that first day in lecture hall, to who I was…to what I could do.

Inhaling deeply through my nostrils, I released the air through the constriction across my mouth. With each successive breath, I felt my lungs loosen and expand, my heart's rhythm regulating.

"Bella?"

Muscles that had been stiff and rigid slackened from shoulders to toes. My fingers felt light and flexible. I don't know if I actually used my fingers to loosen the restraints or if, in the same manner in which I looked at a chair and lifted it off the ground, I calmly visualized the restraint slipping off.

In the next second, I pulled off the blindfold on my eyes and met my father's shocked gaze. He sat exactly where and how I'd visualized him. In the next fraction of a second, during which I heard the slicing of air as Emmett and Jasper rushed toward me, I extended my arm and stretched out my fingers. The thunderous sound their bodies made as they slammed against the log wall reverberated throughout the room. The thud must've alerted those vampires guarding the perimeter. In the next moment, four vampires surged in. None of them made it past the threshold before their frames struck the opposite wall, each impact resounding throughout the forest.

"Bella, stop!"

I rounded on my dad, both of my hands extended outward, pointing at the two walls that held the struggling, suspended vampires. He took a step forward.

"Dad, I don't want to hurt you, so please don't force my hand."

He stopped.

"Bella, sister, set us down!" Emmett howled.

"I just wanted to keep you safe," my dad said, "as I promised Renee…Esme I would. As I've always tried to."

"Dad, you kept me safe for years, even when I fought against your protection. _You_ brought us up here, where I've learned so much. You've kept your promise to Mom."

He sighed raggedly, in resignation, and finally, he nodded.

I turned back to the wall, where Emmett and Jasper were suspended. As I slowly, dropped one of my extended fingers, Jasper slid down the wall. When his feet touched the ground, he remained still, watching me impassively.

"You'll come with me, Jasper."

"Gladly, my lady," he nodded.

"Bella, let me down!" Emmett yelled.

I shifted my attention back to him. "You'll stay with my dad. Protect him, please. He's very important to me. If they break through, hide him in the cellar. Emmett…I feel you were once my brother," I smiled, "but either way, I love you just the same."

"Bella, stop fucking playing games and let me down!" He struggled in vain to unglue his massive arms and legs from the wall.

I turned toward the other wall. Bending another finger on my corresponding hand, Eleazar was freed.

"Edward told me you fought in the Spanish-American War," I said.

Eleazar nodded warily.

"I take it you'd rather fight than remain on guard duty?"

He grinned and nodded again.

I took one final look at the vampires who remained. "The rest of you will be released soon, and when you are, you must all guard my father."

"Bella, you must remain here!" Emmett commanded. "Bella!"

"Are we ready?" I asked the two men who would accompany me.

"We are," Jasper replied. "Are you?"

"Completely."

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **Creative Licenses have been taken, yes. ;)**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

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 **Next update: Tuesday!**

 **Enjoy the rest of your weekend!**


	31. Chapter 30 - Different Choices

**A/N: Happy Monday! I hope you all enjoyed your weekend, and thanks so much for taking time out to read and to give me your thoughts.**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes. (All remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is all mine.**

* * *

 **Chapter 30 – Different Choices**

When we'd first come up to the Cascades, days which at that moment felt more like years ago, Edward had carried me through the wooded mountains while thick, lush vegetation encroached from all sides - prickly bushes bulging, sharp branches protruding. A deluge fell, purposely conjured by me, to disguise our scent from Jakob and his minions. Yet none of it affected me.

As he raced through the forest at dizzying speeds, Edward protected me from the elements. He held me close to his chest so none of the branches or bushes could scratch me. He secured a weatherproof blanket over me to keep the rest of the elements away. Despite everything, on that evening, I'd felt safe and protected.

Now, I felt no such sense of security. Needle-pointed bushes and barbed branches scratched through my clothing and scraped my skin. Frigid air bit my cheeks and stung my eyes as Jasper carried me through those same woods. This time, I was being taken to Edward, to the love of my life, possibly the love of more than one of my lives - and also, the vampire who'd ordered me tied and bound.

This time, the snow now blanketing the mountains and chilling my face had nothing to do with me. I'd even tried to stop it. Having failed, I consoled myself with the knowledge that, at least it's milky whiteness lent a soft glow throughout the darkened forest, until I remembered that all the light simply made us easier to spot. Then I remembered that I was likely the only one who needed light to see, just as I was the only one who felt the chill seeping deep into my bones.

A few miles from the cabin, we arrived on the cliffs overlooking the river. About a mile across the way, the road leading from civilization toward us wound around the mountainside like a snake slithering above the water. At one of the road's curves, the route disappeared behind a thick line of trees and bushes.

As Jasper set me down, I couldn't help admiring the panoramic view. The frothy waters of the river glittered as the moon cast long beams over everything. Another grouping of cherry blossom trees, devoid of their spring blooms, defied Mother Nature by thriving outside of their native environment. Nevertheless, the Cascades were known for being home to some of the tallest and thickest trees in North America. Pines, firs, and cedars, some of them topping a thousand years in age, surrounded us from every angle. They shot up so high into the sky that day or night, their peaks disappeared within the thick, mountain clouds like Jack's beanstalk.

I was still vaguely entranced by the trees and their beauty when I caught the flash of horror crossing Eleazar's face. A fraction of a second later, he flew and crashed against one of these massive trees a few yards away. My breath hitched as the tree toppled, and Eleazar fell along with it.

Jasper swiftly dropped into a crouch. "She has a right to be here!"

In the next moment, his back met a tree trunk with a similar fate to the one Eleazar had just met.

"That is twice you've failed her!"

"Stop it, Edward!" I hissed, searching for him among the dark crevices forged by the wood's shadows. "Don't you dare take this cluster fuck out on him or on anyone else!"

A deep growl rumbled throughout the forest, echoing off the cliffs, and still reverberating when I found myself pinned against a massive boulder. A strong hand secured my wrists above my head while another hand cradled my back protectively and kept it off of the rough slab of rock. Nevertheless, the black eyes glaring down at me brimmed with fury. Instinctively, my fingers stretched and pointed. Edward caught their movement in his periphery, his dark eyes momentarily leaving mine and shifting upward. With a smirk, he met my gaze again, quirking an eyebrow.

"Upon whom are _you_ getting ready to take out your wrath, Bella?"

For a few seconds, we remained locked in one another's furious gazes. Finally, when I allowed my fingers to fall limp, Edward exhaled.

"I wouldn't use my strength against you," I said pointedly. " _I_ have more respect for you than that."

His reply erupted through a rigidly clenched jaw, each word spewed like sand through a sieve.

"Is that how you view my efforts to keep you safe? Damn it, why couldn't you just stay at the cabin?"

"After everything you and I have been through, everything we've shared, you think that I'd willingly stay behind? That, in and of itself, speaks volumes of your trust in me."

"It has nothing to do with my trust in you!"

"It has _everything_ to do with it! You lied to me!" I spat. "You told me that the solstice wouldn't arrive, that _they_ wouldn't arrive until tomorrow! You said we'd do this together, and then you ordered them to restrain me - to _bind_ me? What the fuck?" My voice shook with outrage.

"I did it to protect you, and I'd do it all over again if it meant keeping you out of harm's way!" he bellowed unapologetically. "But you have always been so ready to thwart all my attempts at ensuring your safety!" In a flash, his hands were wrapped around my face. "Do you think me stupid, Bella? Do you think I don't know what goes through your head? I knew what you'd attempt even before Emmett told me of what you discovered in the meadow! Even with your lack of belief in who you are, your willingness to sacrifice yourself has been written all over your face for weeks!"

"You mean the way it's been written all over _your_ face from the very beginning?" I retorted hotly.

"I will not allow it!" he yelled, ignoring my accusation, his grip tightening as his face inched closer to mine. "Do you hear me? This time, I am prepared, and I _will_ block all your attempts at self-sacrifice! You will return to the cabin with Jasper NOW!"

"NO! _I_ am not your eighteen-year-old wife, Edward, and I won't even pretend to obey you!"

His eyes grew wide with indignation, then they narrowed, darkening further until they were nothing more than two black slits framed within a pale, livid face. His mouth twisted into an incensed snarl. In that moment, he was all vampire.

Yet…yet there was an irrefutable desperation in the way he held me, overpowering anxiety in the unnecessary heave of his chest, and devastating fear in the fathomless depths of his eyes.

"Edward, they're getting closer!"

I looked over Edward's shoulder toward Irene, who called out the warning from a few yards away.

"The caravan is just across the river, about fifteen minutes out."

"How many vehicles?" Even as he spoke to Irene, he refused to free me from his angry glare.

"Between vans, SUVs, and sedans, about twenty-five in all."

"That can't be more than one-fifty, two-hundred shifters total," Jasper said, "and, that's assuming they're all shifters." He stood next to Irene, apparently having shaken himself from Edward's ambush with neither a scratch nor lingering hard feelings. Then again, one thousand years was a long time in which to learn to let go of grudges. "It's much less than what we figured."

"It doesn't make sense that they'd come with such few numbers," Eleazar added, also fully recovered as he stood with Irene and Jasper.

Cursing under his breath, Edward squared his jaw, protruding bones appearing ready to snap and splinter.

"What caravan?" I asked. "Edward, what caravan?" I repeated when he didn't respond.

"SWAT," he finally replied, his tone clipped and severe, "at least, they come _disguised_ as SWAT."

Fixing me with one final, scathing glare, he pulled away. Yet, despite his obviously lingering ire, he took my hand in his. Broad shoulders moving stiffly, he led us toward the clearing which opened to the river below. The moon shone high in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the breaking white water and the gray, cliff-side winding road in the distance. The glare of headlights twisted with the narrow curves.

"What do the rest see?" Edward asked the vampires surveilling the cliffs.

"They see no one else," Liam replied.

"Yet, there must be more of them." He drew in an impatient breath. "Wait here."

Releasing my hand, Edward moved closer to the cliff's edge, leaping and fluidly scaling jagged, uneven earth. He stopped at the end of the bluff, and he glared at the moving headlights across the river, the moonlight clearly defining his deep-set scowl. The breeze whipped up his dark hair, highlighting a few strands in an almost unnatural crimson. Under other circumstances, watching him stand there, tall and erect and illuminated by the moon, would've been a mesmerizing sight.

"They're not even attempting concealment," Raoul observed.

"They have always been arrogant," Irene said. Turning to me, she took a step forward. "Why don't you employ your gifts productively for once and end this right now? Push the entire caravan into the river."

I meant to reply that slamming her against a tree earlier that morning had felt pretty productive to me. But in one giant leap, Edward was once again at my side, and he beat me to a response.

"Irene, back up _now_ , and focus."

They were a string of fairly innocuous words, yet the quelling tone in which he delivered them infused them with more than a hint of warning. Instantly, Irene backed off. More than that, she appeared sincerely chastised and ashamed. As was I.

"Edward, Irene does have a good idea," I acknowledged, lifting my hands. But Edward promptly laid his arm across both of mine, guiding them back to my sides.

"Bella, we do not know how many of those they bring with them are human and how many are shifters." Pausing, he allowed the meaning of his words to sink in. "Are you willing to sacrifice innocent lives?"

"I…I…I can't." My shoulders sagged under the weight of my all-too-human conscience. "I can't risk an innocent, human life, and they most likely know that I can't."

"Of course, they do," Edward confirmed. "Besides, a fall in the river would do absolutely nothing to the shifters, and Jakob is most likely not with this group. He will wait to make himself known. Don't reproach yourself on _that_ account." Then, so quickly I had no time to react, his hands slid around the nape of my neck. His ensuing words were a whispered, urgent plea.

"Please, Bella. Please. I cannot…I can't lose you. Immortal being or not, there's no way I could survive your loss this time. Another thousand years without you…my soul would not survive it." He pressed his forehead to mine, heavy breaths fanning across my face. "Please, go back to the cabin."

"If she's going to leave, she has to leave now." Irene's tone no longer held any acrimony. "We're running out of time."

"Bella, please," he whispered raggedly.

I fisted the hair at his temples to guide his eyes to mine, my heart clenching at the desperation etched like scars deep into his features. "Listen to me, Edward. I know you want to protect me. I know it," I choked. "But did you ever stop to think that perhaps she should've gone to the castle with you from the very beginning? Maybe you and she should've never left one another's sides. Maybe that's the lesson _we_ needed to learn."

The truth of that statement hit me so suddenly that I released a long gust of relieved air through narrowed lips. I felt as if yet another debilitating weight had been abruptly lifted off my shoulders. Yet now that _I_ was seeing things so clearly, Edward was the one struggling.

"The time for learning is passed. Now, we must act." He squeezed his eyes shut, and his hands skimmed down to my waist, fingers digging into my skin. "You are not ready, and I can't bear to lose you, Bella," he said brokenly.

His lack of faith in me stung deeply, but I realized it was my own fault. Time after time, I'd doubted myself.

"Damn it, Edward, look at me! _Listen_ to me!" When he opened his eyes, I forced myself not to flinch at the tortured look in his gaze. "I think the only way we'll get through this night is if we're ready to face it together, to learn from our past mistakes."

"Edward, they're less than five minutes away!"

"Bella, you have to go! I will not risk you-"

"Edward, for weeks you've begged me to stop doubting myself, yet you're the one who's doubting me now! There are things you don't know, things I've just discovered!" And knowing I was running out of time, the rest poured out in a disjointed mess I could barely understand myself. "The curse, the prophecy didn't originate with Rena in Pompeii! And your immortal existence…your vampire form, it's a sort of purgatory, never meant to be permanent!"

"What? Bella, Emmett told me of what you saw in the meadow, and it doesn't change anything."

"Of course, it does! And I've seen more since! The curse is part of a bigger prophecy, and it's meant to be broken!"

"Bella-"

"And Rena," I continued in a desperate rush, "her daughter Sabella's continuous female line ended with the death of Bellaria, yet her bloodline continued through Emmett and then his daughter. But it was no longer a continuous female line, and that did mean something, Edward, just as I'd feared!"

"That fear has been the root of your doubts from the moment you learned everything, the reason you still doubt you are the chosen one. Go back to the cabin."

"Because Sabella's pure female line was broken, and as much as you denied because you believed I was the chosen one, it simply didn't hold with the prophecy!"

"They're ninety seconds away, Edward!"

He shook his head impatiently. "Bella, I will not argue this with you now. Go. Jasper will-"

"Edward, Sabella had a twin sister!"

Edward blinked excessively, then gaped in obvious confusion. "What? No, it can't be. I would've uncovered such a thing."

"You weren't meant to uncover it, Edward! Her existence was purposely hidden from history! Rena hid her because she knew that if Iakobus…if Jakob ever found out there were two girls, he'd realize they were the prophecy coming to fruition. The prophecy said that the bloodline would split and rejoin. Rena kept no records of her second child, and she swore the peasant girl who took the child to secrecy. She destroyed herself and an entire city to keep the truth buried! The child, Rosalia, grew and had a daughter, and her daughter had a daughter, and so on and so on, all the way through to forty generations later, one thousand years later…to _Rosalie_."

"Rosalie?" he breathed.

"Edward, they're coming up the road!"

"Yes! And when Rosalie had a daughter with Emmett, they reunited the bloodline! Their daughter had a daughter, and so on and so forth, all the way through to-"

"All the way through to your mother, Esme, who was a product of both bloodlines." His beautiful, dark eyes were now wide as he ran his fingers down the length of my hair. "And so forty generations after Rosalie, you were born… _reborn_."

"Yes." I exhaled exhaustedly, relieved he understood despite my jumbled explanation. "Yes."

"You were reborn with the strength of the gypsy and both bloodlines." He cradled my cheek reverently. "You see now with proof what I have always known in my soul - you are the fulfillment of the prophecy in _every_ way, my beautiful, lovely Bell-"

"Edward, they're here!"

Edward looked over his shoulder.

Cradling his face, I guided his eyes back to me. "Edward, I won't leave you. I'm sorry, but I can't." I shook my head and offered him a rueful smile. "I think that our ultimate strength lies in one another. And I think that together, we can finally break this immortal curse."

For one long moment, he held me locked in his impenetrable gaze.

"You believe."

"I do."

"Your blood…your blood will be my strength."

"Yes, Edward. It's as you said at the castle a millennium ago."

Then, I crushed my mouth to his, even while I heard the crunch of tires skidding on the road. In return, he crushed me to his chest, his mouth moving hungrily with mine, our breaths mingling as one between us. "My blood will be your strength," I promised against his soft lips. "My blood will be your strength."

Beyond the tree line, we heard the caravan come to a stop. Car doors swiftly opened and slam shut. Edward pulled my lips between his, sucking on first the top one and then the bottom before releasing them.

"I love you, Bella," he breathed. "I've always loved you, and I will always love you. Never forget that."

"I love you, Edward, as always for always." I no longer cared, it no longer mattered whose words they were. "For always," I murmured fervently in his ear, hastily palming his scarred cheek before pulling away. For two seconds, our gazes held, and then skimming my hand down his arm, I weaved our fingers together.

"Ready?"

Edward nodded. "Ready."

A few feet away, Jasper, Eleazar, and Irene moved into position. All the vampires who hadn't been left to guard my father now surrounded us. My heart and head pounded painfully, but I pushed back the pain. I pushed everything back. This was it. Whatever had been coming for us for weeks…for millennia, was here.

In the ensuing silence, a pair of slow and measured footsteps shuffled over the dewy grass. Uneven bracken crunched and cracked under unseen, heavy shoes. The shoes came to a stop a few yards away, hidden behind the swaying trees. The sound of cocking guns filled the forest, followed by more footsteps. A few more seconds of heart-pounding silence ensued, during which nothing but a breeze whistled through the air, wrapping itself around the shadows made by thin branches.

A man's voice suddenly rang out, with enough pitch and volume to carry his words between the tree line barrier.

"Edward Masen, this is Captain Charles Swan of the Seattle Police Department. We know you're here, and we know you have others with you. We also know that Professor Bella Cullen is here, possibly against her will."

Fury prickled like a thousand pins digging into my scalp. My first instinct was to yell, to curse and scream, to tell him that he knew that I wasn't here against my will. But Edward quickly moved into my line of vision, silently and vehemently shaking his head. Then I remembered…yes, Charles knew. He knew everything.

Instead of screaming, I lifted my free hand, closed my eyes, and visualized him, striving to picture his face in my mind. At my side, Edward squeezed my other hand.

"You should probably know that we have the entire perimeter surrounded. Look," the captain added hastily, "we can settle this peacefully if you'll just give us Professor Cullen. Let us have her, and we can work something out."

If any of those with him were truly ignorant of the actual facts of the events unfolding, then to them Captain Swan's plea probably sounded like a police chief negotiating for a hostage. I, however, knew it was Karel, two thousand years later once again betraying his own – just as the prophecy proclaimed he would.

I stretched out my fingers, imagining my birth father on the other side of those trees. On TV, I'd seen he had dark hair much like mine. Right now, he probably wore a helmet and protective gear with the acronym SWAT in white uppercase letters on both the front and back of his useless vest.

"Professor Cullen, can you assure us that you're okay?"

 _Fuck you_ , I wanted to yell, _how's that for assurance?_

"He's trying to rattle you," Edward breathed.

I shook my head, shaking off his words and continuing my visualization. The captain's prop of a gun, which he knew very well to be pointless against vampires, was likely held at the ready, perhaps as a show for those in the caravan who believed he was a man of the law. Perhaps because he wasn't completely sure what powers I possessed.

"Professor, you should know that a friend of yours is with us."

My fingertips tingled, and I felt the now familiar burn that preceded an eruption of energy.

"Bella?"

The unexpected and concurrent recognition of that voice caught me off guard. I gasped, and the burn retreated.

" _Kate_?"

Beside me, Edward's grip tightened. _"_ Fuck, _"_ he spat.

Meanwhile, I pressed my lips together, swallowing back a stream of my own harsh words as well as a scream of horror.

"Bella! Bella, where are you?"

"Bella, my love, it's a ploy," Edward hissed. "He's using her against you, just as he used her against you at the castle."

I nodded wildly because yes, of course, I knew that. I knew it, but it didn't change the sickening roll in the pit of my stomach.

"Bella! Bella, I'm here with the Captain! He's told me that Edward has brainwashed you! You're innocent in all this! I know that, and he knows that! He knows you weren't to blame for any of what happened on campus! Bella!" she cried.

 _Be at ease, my lady! Your father seeks my assistance in undoing the error of judgment you committed in his absence, nothing more._

"Bella, I'm here to help! Captain Swan wants Edward to give himself up!"

I dug a fist into my mouth, choking back my shrieks of fury.

"Christ's love," Edward breathed.

 _Christ's love, Cateline, what have you agreed to? What have you done?!_

"Bella, over twenty people died at the university! Everyone knows you had nothing to do with it! Captain Swan wants Edward to give himself up, and for you to come to us. Then all this can end!"

Silent tears streaked down my face. "Kate, damn it," I hissed through clenched teeth.

"Shh." Edward murmured. "Bella, my love, you must ignore her and continue. I know you don't want to hurt her, but-"

"But if they have her, she's already lost," I whispered back.

He cradled my cheek and held my gaze in silent understanding.

"Bella!" Kate repeated. "Are you hearing me?"

"Kate!" I yelled, unable to hold back my outburst. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"You're there, Bella," she said, sounding relieved. "You're there…my lady, Bellaria."

My lungs constricted as I sucked in a long, painful breath, head pounding so furiously it felt ready to explode.

"What did you call me?"

Everything after that happened in a dizzying rush.

Edward turned and nodded a signal before dropping to an immovable crouch before me. The rest of the vampires circled us, dropping into their own defensive stances.

"On my command!" Edward said.

A rumbling occurred behind the trees, and then Kate released a piercing scream.

"KATE!"

I tried to move forward, but Edward locked his arm around my waist and pushed me behind him. "Get ready!"

"Edward, wait! Wait! Kate!" I cried. "Kate, run!"

When she cried out as if in pain, my hands instinctively rose above my head.

"Leave her alone, you asshole!" I yelled at the captain.

Kate's whimpers drew closer. When she and her screams broke through the trees, the captain held her in a headlock, his hand wrapped around her throat. The other hand held his gun trained to her temple.

"I will fucking kill you!" I threatened.

"Why haven't you already?" my birth father questioned. "Is it because you don't have it in you to kill, Professor? That's a good thing."

"I know the truth," I said, my voice shaking with fury. "I know _everything_."

"Don't speak to him, Bella!" Edward said, all the while standing like a boulder before me.

"How could you help _him_ over me?" I accused the man across the field. "No matter what, _I_ am your flesh and blood!"

"If you know everything as you claim, then you know that I was doomed to this," he replied calmly. "I threw my lot in with _his_ lot millennia ago, and I wasn't allowed to turn back. Instead, I'm forced to repeat my existence every thousand years, just as you are. It's not fair, is it?"

"You _can_ make different choices! You can always make different choices, no matter what anyone says. We have free will!"

"Unfortunately," he sighed, " _I_ don't."

"Christ's love, Bella, do _not_ speak to him," Edward said through gritted teeth. "He's simply trying to confuse you!"

"We're all but pawns in a larger, cosmic game, a game where much has already been predetermined. But _you_ do have choices, and you can end this torture for all of us, Professor…Bella… _daughter,_ " he said softly. "Come to me, and let me take you to him. You have this all wrong, Bella. _We_ are not the enemy. If you make the right choice, we can _all_ be a family, and together, we can finally reap the rewards we were once promised."

"Go to hell! As if I'd ever trust you!"

"It's the monster next to you whom you shouldn't trust," the captain said. "He's using you."

A low, predatory growl erupted from deep within Edward's chest.

"Bella!" Kate whimpered helplessly. "Bella, listen to me!"

At the sound of fear echoing in her voice, instinct guided me forward. But Edward remained impenetrable.

"No, Bella! I will not allow you to move closer! I know she's your friend, but she made the wrong choice once more!"

"Let her go," I ordered the captain through gritted teeth, slowly spreading my fingers again, "or I'll have no choice!"

Captain Swan sighed deeply and shook his head. "This isn't the way I wanted to do things, but once again, you won't listen to reason. Now, I'm going to count to five." He cocked the trigger aimed at Kate's head. "One."

"No!" I yelled, and the dark skies rumbled.

"My lady!" Kate shrieked. "Listen!"

"Two."

 _Cateline, for the love of all that is holy and sacred, whatever they have asked of you, I beseech you not to do! We must_ _ **all**_ _stand strong against their combined madness! 'Tis the only way! Promise me you will not bend, Cateline!_

"Kate! Cateline, damn it," I screamed as the memory flashed through my mind. "If you remember, why couldn't you learn? Why couldn't you remember what happened the last time you trusted him?"

"Three!"

Lightning streaked across the black abyss above us.

"I _do_ remember, Lady Bellaria. I finally remember, and I'm so sorry for what happened at the castle!"

"Four!"

"And I learned, my lady!" she yelled desperately. "I learned that we must _all_ stand against them! This time, I will _not_ bend or let you down!"

She closed her eyes. Under the bright moon, something in her hand caught the light. It glinted briefly. I watched her thumb hover above it for a fraction of a second before the first consonant of the next number left the captain's mouth. And before either he could expel the vowel that followed, or I could rain down my fury, my feet left the ground as a massively thunderous explosion rocked the entire cliff-side.

A sharp pain tore through my shoulder, and then…all I felt was heat.

Blinding, scorching heat forced my eyes closed. It turned everything behind my lids a deep maroon. Its burn singed every inch of my body. I had the strangest sensation of traveling through the air and then of plummeting at an unimaginable speed. When I reopened my eyes, I found myself falling while huge rocks and boulders fell with me, and…

And they weren't boulders. They were bodies…shifters, reaching for me with their hands…with their outstretched claws.

My head hit something concrete-like with such force that I felt my skull bones crack. My brain bounced and jarred within that broken skull.

"BELLA!"

Then, I felt nothing.

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

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	32. Chapter 31 - At Long Last

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your wonderful thoughts.**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes. (All remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is all mine.**

 **Chapter 31 – At Long Last**

The campus' cherry blossom trees bloomed in an exquisite mix of greens, pinks, and reds. They exploded like fireworks in the springtime warmth. The balmy breeze sent the thick limbs above me dancing, the flowers on them fluttering like butterflies. The branches sank and dipped so close to the ground that in spite of my shaded spot far below them, if I stretched an arm, if I extended my fingers and wiggled the tips, I could almost reach them.

All around, students and staff strolled and rambled about. They talked, laughed, or simply headed to classes inside the glass and steel university structures. If I looked to my right, I could just about make out the stunning Cascade Mountain Range in the distance. If I looked to my left, the Olympic Mountains rose majestically against the horizon.

Yet, the most amazing sight of all lay before me.

Edward was crossing the quad. His pace was swift and eager, yet his broad shoulders were relaxed and carefree. The warmth in his green eyes brightened with every step he took. His smooth forehead was unlined by anger or tension, his handsome face shadowed only by an afternoon's worth of stubble.

"Edward," I breathed.

Stopping a few yards away, he dropped and knelt in front of the young child attempting to keep up with his long strides. One arm curved around the child's small shoulder while the other extended toward me, he grinned and pointed. When his lips parted, I watched his mouth move before sweeping my gaze back to the child, who nodded in that innocently exuberant way only possible for children.

In a sudden funnel of haze, Edward and the young child disappeared. I watched the remnants of their essence float away like fragile, gossamer petals.

Soon, the campus and the trees around me evaporated as well. Instead of grass, I found myself seated on a wooden chair, back in the Seattle Library. Esme stood beside me once more, cradling my face and wiping away my tears.

"Please, Mom," I choked, "if I'm dead, let me stay with them, even if they're just in my mind."

She smiled tenderly. "Bella, you're not dead, but you will have to fight."

"I was ready to fight, but I wanted to save Cateline! Now, she's dead, and I've failed Edward."

"You haven't failed him, but you must accept that you cannot save everyone. It's not within your realm of power to do so. What's more, before this solstice ends, your losses may run even deeper. It's what happens when we shape our own destinies. There are no guarantees, Bella, but you can't afford any more hesitation or doubt."

"I don't doubt! I know I was once she – Bellaria! I know it, and I accept it!"

"Darling," she said softly, shaking her head, "you weren't once her; you are _still_ her." Her gentle fingers smoothed away the lines of confusion marring my forehead. "And it's not something you must merely accept but something you must embrace. Embrace the fact that you have always been Bellaria, that you will always be her, and that she has always been and will always be _you_. There is no Bella and Bellaria as separate entities; therefore, it matters not which name you choose."

One of the final lines in Edward's _Verse for Bellaria_ replayed itself in my mind:

 _Bellaria, my heart, my_ ** _soul_** _..._

"Are things truly that literal?" I wondered aloud. "Edward has always said that my soul belongs to him and his soul belongs to me, that I'm imprinted on his soul as he is on mine."

"Bella, the soul is the only part of us that is truly immortal," she murmured, her fingers following a tender path down the length of my hair. "Those souls which are chosen for multiple lives remember everything: every touch, every smile, every happiness, and every pain from each life that it lives. It is ingrained and imprinted with your experiences. Unfortunately, for many, the anamnesis of our past lives does not always complete itself. Yet, it is always waiting in your subconscious to be unlocked, and if that final acceptance occurs, oh," she smiled, "the things of which we become capable!"

She searched my eyes. I stood and held her gaze, drawing in a long breath and releasing it as if I was releasing a massive density burrowed deep. It was a burden which had weighed me down with apprehension, with disbelief, and with a deep-rooted resentment toward a beautiful, young noblewoman who lived almost one thousand years earlier. A young woman who loved Edward immeasurably…and who was in turn adored by him.

"I understand, Mom. No more doubts. No more rivalry, envy, or jealousy. I believe, and more than that, I embrace Bellaria. I embrace _myself_ because she is me. She's always been me."

I gasped at the unconditional yet simple truth of it. It filled me with an all-consuming heat. It made my throat dry. It made me woozy and light-headed.

It weakened my eyes and buckled my knees.

"Bella…?"

"Mom? Mom, I…I don't feel well…Lady…Lady Mother?"

"My dear daughter." My mother's voice quivered. All of a sudden, she sounded so far away, as if she was across a vast space instead of right in front of me. She cradled my face once more and spoke soothingly yet wistfully.

"Bella, your anamnesis is complete. I will be forever grateful that I was granted this gift, which allowed me to meet you, even if in this abstract manner. In both lives, you grew into a wonderful woman, and I am immeasurably proud. I am sorry for the difficulties still remaining in your path, but remember, I will always be with you in here." She placed a hand over my heart.

I staggered backward unsteadily, her lovely face along with everything else in the library spinning before me.

"Do not leave me, Mother."

"It is time, my darling. It is time for you to shape your own destiny, wherever it may lead."

I swayed and fell to the floor.

Once again, I found myself alone in the black, desolate world of Nothing. This time, there were no trees or mountains in the distance, no mute lightning flashing across an abysmal sky. I lay across a cold, inky ground, my body heavy, my limbs unresponsive. When I threw my head upward and screamed, no sound erupted.

Time was immeasurable. Finally, the hard floor gave way to something softer. A pair of strong, familiar arms wound around me and held me close. Tormented, broken sobs slowly filled the Nothing World, growing louder until they echoed throughout the intangible walls of darkness.

"I am sorry," the tortured man finally breathed, his voice hoarse, his rough yet warm hand palming my cheek. "I am sorry, my Bellaria."

I opened my mouth to tell him of all I saw, all I now knew, but I couldn't make a sound. Instead, as my husband's ragged sobs continued, a soft light appeared in the distance. It brightened gradually like the rising sun, finally illuminated sufficiently to bring my husband…my knight into focus. We were in the castle. His handsome face had been beaten, left bruised and bloodied. His green eyes were swollen and red-rimmed, full of an unfathomable agony. Yet, he was still the sweetest and most beautiful sight I'd ever beheld.

"Wait for me, my wife. Wait for me as you promised - as always, for always. I will find you, Bellaria, wherever you go, and when I do, we will be together for eternity."

I wanted to tell him that yes, of course, I would wait for him. I wanted to tell him where to find me, that I would be reborn in a land still unknown to him across the vast ocean, in a year almost impossible for him to fathom. I wanted to tell him that when he found me, I would be a woman who doubted everything set before her unless given physical proof. Yet, his endless faith in us would help me remember that the soul within my body had his name interminably imprinted upon it.

I wanted to tell him so much.

Above all, I wanted to tell him that, although I had to leave him for a long period of time, he would not be alone. My brother and his squire would be with him. And my blood would remain with him. It was ancient and powerful blood. I knew that now, just as I knew that it was _always_ meant to be spilled here for him, to maintain him – to be his _strength_ , so that when the time came many, many generations later, he could be mine. We could be one another's strength in every way.

Yet, I could not make a sound.

Instead, as the light surrounding him brightened, its brilliance quickly shifted into an almost blinding intensity. It burned so fiercely that it eclipsed my husband's face. Turning away from the glow, my eyes fell on something…on _someone_ else in the distance - a small figure walking backward toward the light, tiny hand outstretched. I extended my own hand, yet instead of reaching the small hand…

I drew in a sharp breath.

"Edward, she's awake!"

"Remain with her!"

Blinking, I was momentarily disoriented at finding not Edward but Irene hovered above me. The falling snow framed her face, her usually silky mane in disarray. Her brilliant eyes were round and infused with a mixture of both relief and dread. Her clothing was burned with black-edged and scorched holes gaping widely in places. Yet her skin appeared unharmed.

I sat up on the cold, uneven ground and took in the moonlit forest.

"Be careful!" Irene hissed.

"What happened?"

"Your stupid friend thought she could take them all out herself. Edward extracted you from the worst of the blast, but the speed and force with which he had to wrench you dislocated your shoulder. You were knocked unconscious when you hit your head against his chest. He was afraid he heard your skull crack."

I lay a probing palm on my head, at the same time taking stock of the rest of me. My body ached, and my clothes were burned and hanging in shreds. Physically, however, I felt intact; although, my head throbbed like a mother fucker.

"I think I'm okay."

"You're not. Look."

She pulled on a tear in my sweatpants, just over my thigh, gasping at what she found…or judging by her reaction, what she failed to find.

"Your skin was charred just moments ago, and I was told you didn't heal anywhere near as quickly as we do!"

"Irene, how long was I out?"

"No more than a couple of minutes."

"A couple of…where are the rest, where's Edward?" I asked anxiously.

She swallowed. "The police chief is dead. For that much, at least, we can thank your friend. But," her nostrils flared, voice quivering, "in the confusion of the blast, one of the shifters tore out Eleazar's heart."

"Oh God."

"The rest of us are on the cliff above, fighting. And Edward…" When she turned her head, I followed her gaze.

About a mile across and above me lay the winding, wooded road. Directly above and over the cliff, I could hear yelling and the sharp, quick tempo of gunfire. Below me were the fast-moving white-waters of the river crashing against rocks.

We were on a long, narrow ridge overhanging the cliff's bluff, where a shallow, cave-like indentation kept us shrouded in its shadow despite the moonlight and the snowfall's luminosity.

Edward was on the ridge as well, but a few yards away. His hands were occupied, wrapped around two necks, pinning two men against the cliff's rocky bluff. The men threw back their heads and released high-pitched, bloodcurdling howls. They writhed and struggled against him, their clawed hands desperately reaching. Their heads jerked unnaturally from side to side while their faces morphed continuously and between the faces of the men they'd once been to the face of…Jakob.

"Where is he?" Edward bellowed. "Where is your master?"

Before they could reply, another group of shifters dropped from the cliff's ledge above us. They surrounded Edward and dug their claws into him. As I watched in horror, he threw back his head and roared.

"No! Get off of him! Irene, get out of my way!"

"No, Bella!" she hissed. "He asked me to keep you hidden until you were better!"

"I _am_ better," I gritted. As soon as I rose to my feet, the shifters' eyes found me. Their mouths twisted into sneers and scowls.

" _Bellaria_ ," they hissed.

"NO!" Edward bellowed.

As they prepared to lunge, he shook himself off so hard and fast that the shifters still clinging to him like leeches lost their grip. They slammed against the cliff's face, and the sound of cracking bones and skulls echoed off the bluff before they fell like unmanned puppets into the river.

At the same time, three others lunged, but I raised my hands and caught two of them in mid-air. Their bodies broke against the bluff and tumbled into the dark abyss below. The last one in the group landed on Irene. She grabbed it by the neck and sunk her teeth deep into its throat. Its head rolled across the ridge and into the icy water, followed by its torso.

With a quick glance in my direction, Edward shifted his attention back to the two whom he still held prone against the cliff wall. So swiftly I barely caught the movement, he sunk his teeth first to the neck of one shifter, then to the other one. Both heads fell and rolled off the ridge, the headless torsos rolling after them.

Edward looked upward, crouching into position and scanning the cliff's face and ridge, ready and waiting for more.

"Edward, my husband, are you okay?" I asked quickly.

His head jerked sideways toward me. For a couple of silent seconds, he stared at me, eyebrows furrowing as if he wasn't sure it was him I'd addressed. Blood rimmed his mouth, his own black blood seeping from the deep gashes across his torso. His hooded sweatshirt and pants were also tattered and burned.

"I'll heal, Bella, my…my wife," he said, his tone somewhat unsure. "Are _you_ all right?"

"Yes, my love. I'm your wife, and I'm okay, and I'm ready now, _truly_ ready."

He blinked repeatedly. His chest heaved, and his glowing green eyes widened, shifting rapidly from uncertainty to amazement and finally, as comprehension dawned, to an all-consuming joy. In spite of the insanity surrounding us, for a handful of seconds, we remained blissfully locked in one another's gaze. I wanted to shout with glee, to jump up and down because Edward, the son of the mason, my husband, my knight, and I…we'd _finally_ reunited.

But when more SWAT-uniformed men and women fell from cliff's edge above us and onto the ridge, Edward seamlessly shifted back into combat mode.

They came for me, and he reached and yanked two of them, who rounded on him. He dodged their fists and claws, fluidly avoiding their jabs. They fought like rabid animals, keening and thrusting. He ducked from side to side, avoiding them easily. Then, like a bolt of lightning, he drove his left fist into one's stomach, pulling back a bloody handful of entrails before ramming his right fist into the other.

As he reached for two more, I raised and stretched my hands upward. When the familiar tingling coursed through my fingers, I pointed one finger per shifter and slammed them each against the bluff. Large slabs of rock and debris broke off the cliff's face, falling along with the bodies into the frothy, white water.

More shifters came, first by the handfuls and then by the dozens. Finally, the next wave came with their weapons up and ready. When they fired at Edward, my heart stopped until I realized that the bullets barely made him flinch. Instead, with a deep growl, he snatched the rifles from the shifters and smashed them across their faces, breaking their necks in the process. He tore apart their torsos and sent more limbs flying.

Yes, it was all gruesome, but I was past queasiness at this point.

The hesitancy with weapons, I eventually realized, was due to me. Edward's fury seemed to multiply with every weapon drawn in my vicinity. Meanwhile, _they_ wanted to keep me safe for Jakob – Jakob, whom as of yet hadn't made an appearance. Yet, without weapons aimed at me, I easily repelled them with the surge of power in my fingers.

Then, there was a lull. The three of us looked upward, waiting, as moments turned into seconds. Warily and then hopefully, we looked at one another.

Suddenly, I was crushed between Edward's warm arms, wrapped within his strong frame.

"Edward."

I breathed him in and burrowed deep into his embrace. His hands skimmed and inspected my body. He pulled up my face to meet his, glowing eyes boring into mine before he kissed me soundly, his lips tasting of both relief and urgency.

"Are you all right, my love?" he murmured, lips brushing over my cheeks, my forehead, and finally my nose.

"Yes, Edward." I felt as if an eternity had transpired since I'd last been in his arms. "I'm fine. I promise." Pulling back, I met his gaze. "Is it done? Was that all of them?"

He shook his head. "No, my love. Listen. Listen closely."

In the raw, frigid air, my labored breaths swirled visibly before me. The sounds I made as I exhaled mixed with the sharp hiss of snow-packed wind. I heard whitewater crashing against the rocky bluff below us. I heard…the continuing grunts and groans coming from beyond the cliff above, the rapid machine gun fire and screams.

"Jasper and the rest of them-"

"He's fine," Edward assured me. "We lost Eleazar," he said somberly, "but the rest of our friends are alive, Bella. I hear them."

"Edward, Bella, I'll meet you both up there!" Irene said. With a quick nod from Edward, she lunged over the cliff.

"Take me up there, Edward!" I said.

He nodded and wrapped his hands around my waist, preparing to lunge. But then, he stopped.

"Bella, I must know," he whispered vehemently. "Is it possible that you remember…have you recalled…?"

"I remember _everything_ , Edward," I said in a rush. "I remember being six years old – a highborn maiden in William the Conqueror's kingdom. You were twelve, and you were brought to my father's castle after your father, the mason, was killed in an accident. As I hid behind a curtain and watched you, something within me jumped."

"Christ's love," he murmured, his fingers skimming my cheek.

"You became a ward of the castle, and I watched you grow from a young boy into the strongest and most chivalrous warrior in our kingdom. And as the years passed, I fell in love with you, even though my father promised me to Lord Jakob upon my eighteenth birthday and even though you saw me as nothing more than your friend, Emmot's, young sister. I remember the day you were knighted alongside my brother. I thought I would die from being unable to reach out and touch you. Every night, I went to bed fearing the day another maiden would capture your heart. I remember when, a few years later, you were wounded in battle. I vowed to myself that when you healed, I'd stop wasting time and make you see me. I succeeded at the tournament held for my sixteenth birthday."

"Yes, I recall," he chuckled softly. "You captured me completely that day."

"I remember the day you pulled me behind the trees and asked me to marry you because you could no longer breathe without me. I remember our wedding, our vows, and our wedding night when you taught me what it truly meant to be a worshiped woman. I remember everything, Edward, son of the mason, my husband."

"Bella…" he said, "you've finally accepted, truly accepted who you are."

I kissed his mouth softly. "I've more than accepted, I've embraced it. And you may call me Bella or Bellaria – it doesn't matter. I'm one and the same." I met his awed gaze. "I've got _so_ much more to tell you, but first, we must finish this."

He nodded as he tightened his hold on my waist. "Yes, we must, and _n_ _ow_ , are you ready?"

When I nodded, he leaped quickly, and we vaulted over the bluff. In Edward's unyielding grip, I landed with only a soft jolt. As he set me down, I turned in a semicircle, scanning the area.

I clamped a hand over my mouth. "Oh God."

At first, I thought the images in front of me were clusters of collapsed tree trunks and branches laying toppled and broken with their fallen leaves spread around them.

They were bodies – hundreds of them. Random, dismembered limbs lay like accessories at their owners' sides. Blood seeped into the snow-covered ground, and with the moonlight breaking through the trees' branches, it cast an eerie glow over the dead men and women with clawed hands and dressed in SWAT gear.

A few yards away, Jasper knelt above a dead female. When he stood, her face quickly changed into the face of Jakob. Snarling, she reached up and dug her claws into Jasper's shin.

Jasper hissed sharply and lifted a boot-clad foot, ramming it down hard on the female shifter's face and smashing in her head.

I turned away from the sight and burrowed my own head against Edward's chest. Finally, I looked up at him.

"Edward, was this all of them, the entire caravan?"

He pursed his lips as he looked past me toward the cliff, staring at the empty road on the other side.

"It doesn't make sense."

"He didn't know how many of us you'd have here," Irene said.

She stood a few feet away, feet firmly planted on the ground, her hands on her hips. The cold wind whipped her long, blond hair, and despite her ragged clothing, she looked like an avenging angel.

"Perhaps he underestimated the force you'd be able to round up." She looked at me, but no longer with hostility. "Perhaps he underestimated Bella's ability to defend herself, and he thought his minions could easily take her. Perhaps, he miscalculated, and we can now go after _him_ , now that we have Bella's powers on our side, and she seems to finally know how to control them."

Edward made no reply. Instead, he kept his gaze trained on the road across the river, his brow deeply furrowed.

"The scouts see nothing, Edward," Jasper said. "No one seems to be approaching from any road."

Edward drew in a deep, unnecessary breath, releasing it slowly, scrubbing his jaw hard.

"It doesn't make sense," he repeated. "Where is he?"

"It's strange, I agree," Jasper said. "But what can we possibly be overlooking? We have scouts all over the area. We've even sent them underwater. I spoke to Emmett, and there are no issues at the cabin."

"Edward, maybe Irene is right." I met his skeptical gaze. "Maybe Jakob counted heavily on Kate's ability to convince me to come with her, and he didn't count at all on Kate recalling her past and attempting to redeem herself. Or maybe he really doesn't believe that I'm Bellaria Reborn, but rather a powerful descendant. Therefore, he didn't think I'd be able to fend off an attack of a few hundred shifters. Or maybe he thought that I'd trust Charles because he was my birth father."

The more I spoke, the more I convinced myself.

"Yes," I grinned. "Perhaps our show of force has frightened him! This time, there were simply too many factors out of his control. He turned hundreds of the state's police force into shifters. Perhaps he thought the pressure alone would be too much for me to handle, seeing all those uniformed people who were so recently human turned into mindless-"

Edward's eyes grew wide. "Recently human," he echoed, meeting Jasper's gaze. "These shifters…the garwalf blood in their veins was still warm and raw. They were too easy to defeat."

"Then, where are the rest of them," Jasper asked, "the ones he's been turning for decades?"

"Maybe they're all-"

I don't recall exactly what I was about to say.

If I stop and concentrate hard enough, I can picture Edward, Emmett, Jasper and me seated around a laptop in their loft one day long ago. It was a day when I'd just recently found out who I was and what I was. Then again, it was before I began to _doubt_ who I was and what I was. Moreover, it was before I realized the doubts had been my mind's desperate and human way of clinging to a world I understood, to the only world I remembered at that point.

Anyway, on that day, Jasper pulled up a news story about a high-speed train derailment in Japan which left a few dozen people dead. That was followed by a news story about an Australian cargo ship that disappeared with its entire crew. That was followed more news stories about disappearing individuals. What I was about to say that night on the cliff somehow related to all that. I know that much.

Instead, the rest of my words died before I had a chance to speak them.

With no warning, no indication, no mysterious underground rumbling or howling in the air, the ground just a few short feet away, the ground right in front of Irene exploded in an amalgamation of snow, dirt, and debris. When the debris cleared, Irene crumbled to the ground with a gaping hole left where her heart used to be – her non-beating yet somehow vital heart.

I remember screaming. I also remember that I tried to run to her, stupidly thinking there was something I could do.

Edward locked me tightly in his arms. "Bella, she's gone! She's gone!"

When the ground began exploding all around us, and horrific beasts the likes of which I'd never imagined spewed from the underground burrows they'd created, I lifted my hands and caught them in midair. Only briefly did I note their dark, matted manes, their razor-sharp canines, their gruesome, shapes, part wolf and part monstrosity. There was simply no time to stop and examine their repulsiveness.

They didn't come by the handfuls or even by the dozens. Hands shaking, I burned them in midair, fiery flames falling side by side with the falling snow. The stench of their blistering flesh made my eyes sting.

At the same time, Edward and the other vampires fought them, these creatures which were _not_ the newly-turned, slightly strong yet stupid SWAT.

They clawed at Edward and the rest of the vampires with wildly superhuman strength. They tried to rip them, bared their long, sharp teeth and came at them with single-minded determination.

And they surrounded Edward as if they knew that by attacking him, they distracted me.

"Edward!" I screamed.

"Bella, focus and fight!" he yelled.

With the surge in my fingers, I took down the beasts ten by ten. Yet, they kept coming. And when the earth quaked and split again, they erupted by the hundreds.

I threw my head and my hands up to the sky.

The darkened heavens rumbled. Thunderous clashes of clouds and lightning illuminated the mountains. When I pointed my fingers, the lightning followed, and the entire perimeter burst into flames.

For a split second, the beasts around us were shocked into inaction, stopping just long enough to witness the destruction. But with simultaneous howls, they resumed their attack, even as I raised my hands over and over, raining lightning bolt after lightning bolt, and destroying them by the hundreds.

When there was only a few dozen left, I raised my hands once more.

The sudden seismic tremor that shook the mountain didn't come from underground or from the sky, and it had nothing to do with me. It was an above-ground rumbling like that of thousands of paws racing over the earth.

I swept my gaze toward the cliff and across the river. In the distance, across the winding, cliff-side road, a black river rushed forward like thick lava. In the next moment, I realized it wasn't lava but a _swarm_ – a swarm of werewolves, thousands upon thousands of them.

"Protect my wife, NOW!" Edward yelled.

In an instant, I was flanked by vampires, yet in the next moment, all of us were surrounded as far as the eye could see by an unending horde of werewolves. The werewolves stopped in unison, as if on command. Their yellow eyes glowed in the darkness as massive chests heaved and snarling fangs were bared.

Edward took my hand and pulled me into his side. I looked at him, feeling his fear for me course through his skin.

"Christ's love," he scowled. "He's gathered them by the tens of thousands."

Strangely enough, at that moment, it was the vision of the young child which danced in my memory.

"This isn't the end. Hey, look at me." I palmed Edward's cheek and guided his black eyes to mine. "This is not the end," I smiled. "It _can't_ be. You and I have a future, Edward. I've seen it."

He swallowed thickly. " _You_ have a future. They dare not hurt you, and I will do whatever I must to preserve your life."

"Would you save my life by dooming me to an eternity with a monster?" I asked. "Promise me you won't, Edward. Swear it!"

He shook his head slowly. "I swear it, my love."

"We fight, no matter what Jakob throws at us."

"No matter what, we fight," he hissed.

Our focus from one another was broken by another separate and distinct sound.

A few feet away and straight ahead of us, the werewolf horde parted in an eerie and systematic manner. They formed a straight and uniform path about twenty feet wide which stretched further back than I could see with human eyes. Then, they stood waiting expectantly.

A dim light appeared in the distance.

The light approached, making the falling snow glitter like diamonds. Steadily, it grew and was joined by the sound of crushed dirt and gravel. The light and the sound traveled down the prepared path and gave way to a set of tires accompanied by a pair of headlights.

"He's here," Jasper breathed.

A low growl rumbled through Edward's chest as the dark and unsettlingly ordinary sedan rolled forward. It stopped a few feet away as the dull throb in my head intensified. The headlights flickered off then back on, and then the driver cut the engine. A few heartbeats later, the door handle clicked. My heart stuttered painfully in my chest.

"No matter what he does to us, we fight him, Edward," I reiterated shakily, huddled into his side. "Promise me you won't let him take me, no matter what."

His hold on me tightened. "I swear it to you, my love."

The driver's door slowly swung open, and a brown, docker-style shoe appeared. The shoe was followed by a khaki-clad leg, and before it could be followed by more, I pointed my tingling fingers. When I felt the surge of power shoot through the tips, I aimed toward the man exiting the vehicle.

Nothing happened.

Another leg appeared, followed by an arm and a white-polo-wearing torso. Finally, the last arm left the car, and when I saw the long sword held in its hand, the pulsing in my head grew worse. I squared my jaw, straining, focusing and gritting my teeth together so tightly that my temples bulged. Again, I felt the surge erupt like a hot stream through my outstretched fingers.

Yet the body kept climbing out of the car.

"Let go of my hand, Edward," I whispered. "I'm going to need both of them."

When he released my hand, I lifted them both high above me. Dark gray shifted into black as thunder roared. Bolts of lightning flashed through heavens and coursed through my fingers. I groaned as I pointed both hands toward the figure and then desperately back up at the sky when nothing happened.

With an exhausted whimper, my hands fell to my sides. Before my knees could give, Edward wrapped his arms around my waist.

"I can't," I whispered weakly. "Edward, I can't hurt him, and when I try, my head feels as if it's about to explode."

"Shh," he murmured. "Preserve your strength, my love," he breathed in my ear. " _I_ will end him."

In a blinding flash, Edward lunged.

The ground behind me rumbled, shook, and broke. In my bewildered state of mind, it took me a couple of seconds to realize it was Edward who'd crashed through the snow-packed earth.

"Edward!"

He was back on his feet, chest heaving with fury and a snarl of pure hatred twisted around his mouth. His black eyes narrowed into slits, infused with rage before he crouched and lunged again.

This time, he slammed into a tree off in the distance.

"Edward! My God!"

At the same moment, Jasper lunged, only to be launched backward past the edge of the cliff. He fell towards the river below.

"Stop!" I cried. "Damn it, stop it now!"

A soft, soothing voice replied. "I don't want to hurt them, Bella. If I wanted to hurt them, then they'd already be dead. I don't _want_ to hurt anyone, but you're not his; you're mine."

My breath hitched wildly.

Jasper and Edward reappeared. When they fell into a crouch and prepared to lunge once more, I reached for Edward.

"No! Stay here with me, _please_."

His nostrils flared and his chest heaved, but in the next moment, he was back at my side.

I weaved our fingers together. "Stay with me."

Out of my periphery, I watched Jasper begrudgingly stand down as well.

Then, I forced myself to do what every atom in my body fought against. I looked up at the face of the man who'd emerged from the car.

"Bellaria," Jakob sighed, smiling, "at long last, I've found you."

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **Okay, I'm reposting this from the A/N in Chapter One:**

 **ONLY READ THIS IF YOU'RE THE TYPE WHO NEEDS TO KNOW MORE OR LESS WHAT YOU'RE GETTING YOURSELF INTO!**

 ***So here's the thing. I'm exploring my darker side in this fic. That doesn't mean rape, incest, bestiality, etc., but…well, it will get dark as in you may bawl your eyes out at some point(s). That being said, if you're willing to take the ride with me, I promise to try and make it worth your while.**

 **Please don't send me nasty pms telling me you weren't warned that there were dark times ahead. (You can send me nice pms telling me you weren't warned, but not nasty ones. The nasty ones, I'll ignore.)**

 **END OF WARNING. :)**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook: Stories by PattyRose**

 **See you on Saturday! Enjoy your weekend!**


	33. Chapter 32 - In the Beginning

**A/N: Thank you all for your wonderful thoughts. Here's your early Saturday posting. We're getting closer to the end…**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes. (All remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

 **Chapter 32 – In the Beginning**

Leaning casually against the hood of his car, the bright headlights sent the snow falling around Jakob sparkling like New Year's confetti. He was impressively tall, perhaps even an inch or two taller than Edward. His ebony skin and his thick, black hair reflected the moonlight and contrasted with the snowy background. His lean, muscular frame supported a pair of broad shoulders, and his glowing, chocolate eyes exuded warmth. Full lips curved into a self-assured yet somehow sheepish grin.

Had I not known better, I may have mistaken him for a model posing for a magazine ad aimed at Millennials, advertising the classy-yet-everyday outfit or the sleek-yet-not-quite-over-the-top car. The sword could've been an accessory some eager, young ad exec might've dreamed up to catch the eye in case the rest of him didn't.

Nudging one foot against the car's front bumper, he dug one hand into his pocket and rested the other on the hilt of his longsword, burrowing its tip into the snow-packed earth. When he spoke, his voice was a mesmerizing timber both gentle and deep.

"Bellaria, my love, come to me. It's time to fulfill our destiny."

His tone was inviting but his words trembled, hinting at barely contained excitement. When I failed to come, he frowned unsurely, pulling his hand from his pocket and reaching out for me with long fingers.

"Bellaria, what is it? Would you prefer I call you something else? It doesn't matter to me by which name you go. As the saying goes, 'a rose by any other name.'"

He grinned broadly as if he'd just offered me the world – which, perhaps he had. When seconds stretched into a full minute and still I failed to move, his proffered hand fell away. The grin faltered. His glowing eyes clouded.

"Bellaria, why do you look at me that way, full of so much apprehension and… _fear_?"

Stretching out his long legs, he pushed himself from the car, yanking the sword from the earth. His movements made me realize that the snow falling around him wasn't sparkling. Rather, there was a glow surrounding him which _actually_ sparkled.

"Won't you even talk to me? Won't you at least allow me to explain my side? The son of the mason has had months to feed you his version." He quirked a brow. "Don't you think it only fair that I'm granted an opportunity to tell my version of events?"

"You piece of mongrel filth," Edward spat, taking a long, menacing step forward. "I will-"

"Edward, please, stay with me." I held on tightly to his hand, trying to focus through the throbbing in my head. "Be my strength," I whispered.

He swallowed thickly, his chest heaving. With a deep breath, he retreated back to my side.

"What has he been telling you, Bellaria?" Jakob asked, shaking his head. "See, this is why I tried sending some of my friends to you before he could fill you with his lies."

" _My_ lies?" Edward growled.

" _Friends_?" I scoffed at the same time. "Don't you mean you sent your mindless monsters to try to kidnap me so that _you_ could rape me?"

Jakob reeled back. His dark eyes grew so large that his apparent horror was almost palpable. "Kidnap and… Is that why you look so terrified of me because he's been telling you that I want to…" He fisted his hair. "Bellaria, you must know I would _never_ do such a thing. I've been trying to _rescue_ you, for the love of God, to restore you to my side, where you rightfully belong."

"You're a liar!"

Even such a short outburst sent the screws already boring into my temples into jackhammer mode. I sucked in a sharp breath, cradling my head.

Edward pulled me closer, wrapping his arms protectively around me. "You accursed hound from hell, my wife has never and will never belong by your side! She has been mine for one thousand years - from the beginning of our existence!"

"From the beginning…what do you mean 'from the…?' Oh, _wait_." Jakob nodded slowly as if something had suddenly become clear. "You really believe Bellaria's tale originates in the middle ages, don't you? He snorted. "Ah, my young leech, you obviously know nothing about the beginning."

"I know you will _never_ have my wife, mangy cur!"

While they exchanged mutually derogatory insults, I cast my gaze around the mountainside, searching for something; though, for what I was looking, I had no idea. Everywhere my eyes fell, all I found was a head-spinning mass of werewolves. Every road, every path, every tree, and every bush was inundated by them. They putrefied the mountain air and turned the previously ivory ground black with their endless river of dirty, matted fur.

A few yards away, the rest of the vampires stood stoically, surrounded by the beasts. I caught Jasper's gaze also straying and searching. When my eyes met his, I could tell neither one of us had a fucking clue what to do next.

With growing frustration, I recalled Nitzevet's prophecy. She'd said that the Chosen One, the one with gypsy blood and the joined bloodline, would be the one with the ability to destroy Jakob. I was she, Bellaria Reborn; I no longer doubted that. But if my powers didn't even faze Jakob, then how the fuck was I supposed to _destroy_ him?

Meanwhile, Jakob continued taunting Edward, but even that he did in an amused, unperturbed manner.

"You are nothing but larvae, a one-thousand-year-old ankle-biter, and as long as you step aside, I've got no issue with you."

"I will rip you to shreds before I _ever_ step aside!"

Jakob snorted and swept his dark gaze back toward me, absently swinging the sword like a pendulum.

"All right, Bellaria," he sighed, "I'm growing restless. Should we tell him the truth now?"

"You and I…" I breathed painfully, every spoken word now causing spasms of agony, "you and I share no truth."

"Oh, but we do," he said gently. "It's why I tried to get to you before he filled you with what he _believes_ to be true. It would've saved us all a world of confusion." He sat back on the hood, crossing his legs and digging one hand into his pocket once more, the space around him glittering. Pushing the sword back into the ground, he sighed and resumed his previously relaxed pose. "Now, Bellaria, close your eyes, and I'll help you recall that which you've failed to remember on your own."

"No."

Yet my lids grew heavy as if weighed down by bricks. The jackhammer spasms in my head concentrated over my eyebrows.

"Just for a minute," Jakob cooed softly. "I simply want you to see the truth."

"I don't…I don't believe you," I said drowsily, my eyelids fluttering closed despite my efforts.

"Bella? Bella, what's wrong?" Edward's concerned breaths fanned across my face. When my knees buckled, Edward's arms wrapped around my waist, holding me upright. "What are you doing to her? I swear I will tear off your head with my bare-"

"No, don't leave me, Edward." I gripped his shoulders. "My head…it feels as if it'll split in two."

"I'm not leaving you, baby," he choked. "I'm not leaving you."

"I'm not doing anything to her," Jakob replied. "She has these visions as I'm sure you're aware. I'm simply helping her recall the earliest one – the one obscured within the deepest recesses of her mind. It's not an easy process, but your mind, Bella, is strong…and ancient. Allow it to take you to the very beginning, to the world as it once was…"

 _Behind my closed lids there appeared a world full of blooming trees where flowers, fruit, and vegetation grew in the most vibrant shades imaginable. The grass, the leaves, the bushes were a vividly green hue even more luminous than Edward's eyes. In the distance, rows of majestic mountains lined this world, standing sentry where men and women of all shapes, sizes, and colors walked around laughing, running, and jubilantly cheerful._

 _They wore nothing. The bright yellow sun warmed their skin while the canopy of trees provided gentle cover. The people interacted with the varied species of animals, some which I recognized and some which I'd never imagined. They lived off the earth, eating from bushes and picking fruit off trees._

"Do you remember Perfection?" Jakob whispered wistfully while the vision played itself behind my eyelids.

"I…No. No," I murmured.

"We lived there in harmony. My brothers and I taught your kind everything. It was our duty to enlighten you, and we fulfilled that task eagerly. In turn, your kind grew to adore us."

 _As if seeing through the eyes of a drone, I suddenly panned back and took in the entire mountainside, all of it blanketed by this picture of supposed Perfection. Scattered about this bird's eye vision, I noted a few points of brilliant light. Sweeping in closer as if adjusting a lens, I realized that the points of light were actually men, men so beautiful that they sparkled._

"The Beautiful Ones," I gasped.

"Yes," Jakob said. "We were The Beautiful Ones, and we asked for nothing in return for our help, demanded nothing. Yet, we were flesh, and it was only natural that we would feel hungers of that flesh."

 _Again, the lens in my vision zoomed in. Suddenly, I heard laughter and carefree giggles. I followed the sound to its origin between a gathering of cherry blossom trees. When I emerged from the grove, I saw a young woman._

 _Trailing behind the girl was long, dark hair spiraling down her back in waves. It fell over her bare bottom and billowed in the breeze as she ran from the figure giving chase._

" _I will catch you," the man growled, and even though his face was turned away from my vision, I recognized his voice. "I will catch you, Isba."_

" _And when you do, what will you do to me?" the young woman asked._

 _When she turned sideways and took him in over her shoulder, her dark eyes laughed impishly - familiar dark eyes, facial features the same ones I saw daily in the mirror._

"No," I said in a strangled whisper.

 _And when he caught her, when…Jakob caught her, he wrapped her in his arms. She squealed in delight, pretending to fight him._

" _What would you like me to do to you, Isba?"_

"No," I gasped.

" _You know what I desire, my Beautiful One." When he laid her on top of the soft grass under a blossoming tree, she looked up at the sky and then towards him. "I want to bear your fruit. With the sun higher in the sky than I have ever witnessed, I want you to take me and fill me. Make me mother to the strongest and most beautiful race of men imaginable!" She spread her legs. "I want to fill this earth with our combined seed."_

"No!" I cried, squeezing my shut eyes even tighter to dispel the vision, but all it did was multiply the pain exponentially. "No!"

" _Yes_ , Isba," Jakob murmured. "Yes."

"Don't call me that! She wasn't me! I wasn't her!"

"Bella, my love, what are you seeing? What's happening?"

"Do you doubt your own eyes, Isba?" Jakob asked. "Do you doubt the visions, the gift you've been given when it shows you something you don't want to see?"

"You're lying!" I hissed. "I would _remember_!"

"Bella, open your eyes!" Edward yelled.

"Let's be honest, my seductress. The only reason you don't want to remember is because he got to you first."

"Bella, damn it, open your eyes!"

"Yes, Isba, open your eyes but truly open them. Allow yourself to see that in the beginning, not only were you mine, you were more than happy to be so."

"NO!" Edward roared. "Bella, he's making you see things! Open your eyes!" Gripping my shoulders hard, he shook me. "Christ's love, baby, please open your eyes!"

 _The paradise called Perfection suddenly darkened. Black clouds filled the sky, shrouding the mountain peaks. Isba looked up at the sky and gasped. Jakob eased off of her and stared in horror at the mountain as the peaks opened, their rims stretching into hungry mouths. Flames erupted from them like thick, hot bile. The molten fire rushed down the mountain slopes, searching and then consuming the Beautiful Ones, engulfing them in fiery heat._

"Punishment for taking what we were told was not meant for us, what was only meant for mortal men," Jakob hissed.

 _In the vision, two of them, Jakob and one other, hid inside a deep, black cave._

"One of my brothers and I, we remained hidden for…a very long time, until I was offered a way in which I could finally give you what you'd wanted: to join our bloodlines and recreate Perfection! I simply had to do one small thing in return."

"Kill a child!" I sobbed. "You had to kill the child whose bloodline would surpass _all_ others, but you failed. Elisheba stopped you."

"So you _do_ remember. Yes," he sighed, "I did fail… _then_ , and due to curses and such, things became a bit harder. It's taken longer than I would've liked, yet here we are, aren't we? So, you see, you've belonged to me from the very beginning, and all the curses in the world couldn't keep us apart."

"No," I whimpered.

"Bella, you are _my_ wife!" Edward roared. "Open your eyes!"

"Isba, all I've been trying to do throughout the ages is to reclaim you so that we could fulfill _your_ desire! Now come, my lovely nymph," Jakob said gently. "Let us finally fill this world with our combined seed. Let us reclaim it for our own and return it to Perfection instead of this monstrosity it's become. All will be beauty once again…and all will worship _us_."

"Bella, wake up!"

"I'm sorry, Edward. I'm so sorry," I cried. "I…I didn't remember."

"There doesn't need to be any fighting tonight, Isba. No one else needs to get hurt. Simply tell this… _son of a mason_ ," he hissed, his tone less playfully taunting than before, "exactly what you saw and what you finally remember. Then order him and the rest of his kind to leave us. He won't listen to me, but if you tell him, he'll have to listen."

"Bella, wake up!" I felt my shoulders rattled almost violently, but I couldn't…I simply couldn't open my eyes.

"Tell him, Bella. Tell him to leave your side. He cannot give you what I can. Why, he can't even procreate with you. After all, it was their creator, my own brother, who was too much of a coward to help me," he hissed. "Instead, he remained in the cave for far too long, which is why the only way he and his kind can now create is through _death_. Whereas, I can give you a beautiful, _immortal_ child, one who will live on with us for eternity."

"No," I wept, placing a palm over my womb and envisioning the beautiful, _mortal_ child in my visions. "No."

"Assure Sir Edward that you and I bear him no ill will for attempting to come between a destiny as ancient and powerful as ours. Tell him that you are not only ready but also eager to be the mother of my child."

"NO!" Edward bellowed.

"I'm sorry, Edward. I didn't remember!"

"Just say the words, Isba, and the son of the mason will obey."

Fingers clawed into my arms so suddenly and so deeply that I cried out in painful bewilderment. The hair on my scalp was fisted almost brutally, with a ferocity as if whoever was pulling it was trying to tear it by the roots. I was shaken so hard that my teeth rattled. The jackhammers in my head abruptly became secondary.

"I WILL NOT LEAVE YOUR SIDE! DO YOU HEAR ME? I CARE NOT WHAT YOU SAY! I WILL _NOT_ LEAVE YOU! NOW, PUSH HIM OUT OF YOUR HEAD AND WAKE, BELLARIA!"

There was a sudden heat on my jaw, heavy breaths against my neck.

"I will be your strength." The words were murmured right before something sharp pierced my throat.

With a gasp, my eyes flew open, and my hands reached up to cradle Edward's head as his teeth sunk deep into my neck.

"Edward…" I drove his head deeper. "Edward…"

"NO!" Jakob howled.

In a flash, Edward was gone. I looked up wildly and caught his landing two seconds later, hitting the ground a few yards away with a massive thud.

No longer feigning low-key placidity, Jakob howled in fury. "You baseborn son of a mason! Her blood is mine!"

Before Edward could get to his feet, Jakob lunged.

He was on top of Edward in an instant, his sword brandished high. But when it swung downward, his glowing dark eyes bulged in shock as it flew out of his hands, landing twenty feet away impaled to a tree trunk.

"Get the fuck off of him!" I screamed.

Jakob's head slowly swiveled sideways. "Little imp," he sneered and prepare to lunge for me. But at the same moment that I raised my hands to defend myself, Edward's fist rammed into Jakob's face.

The next thing I heard was the ear-splitting echo of what sounded like rock pounding rock, and I realized it was vampire and werewolf pummeling one another. Like a well-trained army, the horde of werewolves which had been eerily still now closed in around the rest of the vampires, fangs bared.

My hands flew upward, fingers tingling as the surge of lightning met them. At the same time, my throat throbbed where Edward's teeth broke skin, but it wasn't with the agonizing pain of which Edward had once warned me. My body vibrated as if I'd received a massive dose of adrenaline. When I finally absorbed as much energy as I thought I could take, I pointed downward.

Trees, grass, werewolves…everything in the energy's path instantly disintegrated into piles of ashes.

"Holy fuck," I breathed, staggering back.

Exhilaration at my newfound strength was quickly followed by confusion when the second line of werewolves and all the tens of thousands behind them remained unnervingly still.

"What the hell?" Sasha murmured, echoing my own thoughts. "Why aren't they moving?"

"Who cares!" Liam said. "We'll destroy them now and ask questions later!"

As much as I knew it made no sense, with the werewolves at least temporarily contained, I could only agree with the plan so that I could turn my attention back to Edward and Jakob. Pointing my fingers at Jakob, I hit him with my surge.

He merely flinched.

Fury and disappointment coursed through me, yet Jakob's momentary incapacitation was at least enough for Edward to gain the upper hand. With a midair jump, Edward rounded and kicked Jakob in the stomach.

Jakob soared, disappearing into the midnight sky.

Equal parts hope and relief washed over me. In the next second, I was enveloped within a pair of strong arms and crushed against an unyielding chest. Anxiously, Edward placed two fingers at the puncture marks which were already healing.

"What do you feel?"

"Throbbing, burning, but not pain, Edward. It feels like you injected me with adrenaline."

"I didn't drink from you, Bella," he said as if reassuring me. "I only wanted to wake you. The transformation does not take place unless I drink and _you_ drink in return."

"Edward, I don't care if you bite me! Maybe you were _meant_ to-"

Before I could finish, there was a swoosh of air, and Edward flew backward into the darkness. He became a minuscule pinpoint in the distance. Then…he was gone.

As was all the breath in my lungs.

"What did you do to him?" I screamed, hands ready.

Jakob replied from somewhere unseen. "Relax, Isba. When I want the son of the mason dead, you'll know it. Speaking of which, that last little surge of yours packed quite a punch." He emerged from behind the trees, shaking his head from side to side. "But you should know by now, my little vixen, that the most you'll _ever_ be able to do to me with those sweet little hands of yours is give me a jolt."

"We'll see about that."

When I hit him with my surge, he reeled back and squeezed his eyes shut. His head fell back, features contorted in pain, his entire frame quaking. For a few seconds, his legs appeared about to buckle.

Then he straightened and strode toward me with a grin.

"You're getting better, but it takes a lot more than that to truly harm someone as ancient as me. Remember Elisheba and her tingling fingers? She couldn't do much more than cause me pain either. And Rena, in all her glorious fury, came close but still no cigar. Besides," he smiled, "it's the night of the solstice, my little temptress. It's _my_ night."

"But _I_ am not Elisheba or Rena," I hissed, "and neither was I _ever_ Isba! _I_ am Bellaria Reborn!"

Raising my hands to the black sky, I called on the burning surge and pointed again.

This time, he raised his own hands and flung the surge right back toward me, throwing me backward. I slammed hard against a tree trunk.

Dazed and bewildered, I picked myself up and watched Jakob as he continued his languid stroll. He made his way to the trunk where I'd impaled his sword, plucking it back out smoothly. Then, he circled back toward me, misplaced sparkles trailing in his wake.

"Now, where were we?"

My nostrils flared, blood boiling in my veins, and despite knowing how useless it was, I raised my hands yet again.

"I'll show you _exactly_ where we were."

As if he'd been shot out of a cannon, Edward rammed into Jakob's stomach, sending Jakob careening backward flat on his ass. He hit the ground with such force that as he slid, he broke through the earth.

Edward cradled my face. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

Suddenly, everything shifted. The previously immobile werewolves lifted their heads. When they swarmed and crouched on their hind legs, Edward pulled me against his chest.

"Edward, I know your first instinct will be to protect me, but you protect _me_ by protecting _yourself_. Please remember that."

I felt his heavy breaths against my neck. "Yes, my love. I will remember."

Edward spun me so that we stood back to back. When the wolves lunged, Edward, Jasper and the rest of the vampires sprang into action, and I raised my hands, pointing at the werewolves and

disintegrated them by the hundreds. I uprooted trees and pitched them toward the horde, toppling them onto one another like a long line of dominoes. I pointed again at the wolves, and thousands of them froze as if they'd hit a force field.

Yet, so many kept coming.

And…from behind me and in front of Edward, I heard the distinct sound of a sword being brandished once again.

"Edward!"

"Don't you dare get distracted, Bella!" he growled ferociously. "You protect _me_ by protecting _yourself_!"

He was right. I knew he was right even though it took Herculean effort not to turn toward him. I struggled to block the sounds of the one-sided sword fight along with the growls and grunts. With every passing second, fury and frustration pounded thicker through my veins.

My nostrils flared, and the next time I raised my hands to the sky, a colossal bolt of lightning lit up the atmosphere. The bolt siphoned itself through a cloud that grew as if it was absorbing every minuscule atom of energy in the heavens. The cloud became a shimmering funnel. The funnel rotated like a twister. Its tail shot through the sky and into my fingers.

"The beasts, Bella!" Edward roared. "Point it at the beasts!"

I took nature's energy and rained it over the forest. Whenever the surge weakened, I raised my hands again, recharging, refilling.

When another rumbling in the distance caught my attention, I glanced toward it long enough to catch a glimpse of a massive shape running toward us. He was followed by a group of men and women. Sharp yelps and whimpers littered the forest grounds in their wake. As they drew nearer, I saw the massive figure in the lead carrying three long, glinting objects.

Emmett stopped. When his hands flew upward, he released two of those long, glinting objects into midair.

"Sirs Edward and Jasper, YOUR SWORDS!"

I heard the sharp hiss of swords slicing through the air, vaguely recalling the tavern Edward once took me to, complete with _replicas_ of medieval relics hanging from the walls.

"I recall defeating you once before," I heard Edward say from behind me, "at a tournament held in honor of my wife's sixteenth birthday."

"Had you not interfered," Jakob hissed, "all would have been so simple. And if you'd been paying attention, maggot, then you'd know by now that wasn't really me you defeated. There are hundreds of me, thousands of me, but only one _real_ me."

"Coward," Edward snorted. "You send your minions to fight your fights and believe Bellaria could ever desire a fraud?"

"This night, I am no fraud!"

Edward snickered. "Well then, let's see how the real you fares against me."

Two swords clashed, steel furiously colliding with steel. Minutes, hours, days seemed to transpire while Edward and Jakob fought, while Jasper, Emmett, and the rest of us killed centuries worth of werewolves. Yet they kept coming up the mountain in droves.

Then, Benjamin lost his footing. One second he was upright, and in the next, a werewolf jumped on his chest. It sank razor-sharp teeth into him and yanked out his heart.

"Benjamin!" I cried out, instinctively taking a step toward him.

"Bella, no! NO!"

In that one moment, a pack of wolves lunged, dropping me. When my hands fell back, two of the wolves dug their claws into my palms, impaling me.

I screamed.

I should've kept the pain to myself because somewhere in the back of my mind, in that part that wasn't at that moment in the throes of agony, I knew the werewolves wouldn't hurt me - not really. From experience, I knew that Jakob wouldn't allow it. Certainly, he wouldn't allow anything that risked my reproductive capabilities. In the back of my mind, as the torture coursed from my fingers through my arms, I knew that much.

But, I had no opportunity to remind Edward of these facts; although, I doubt it would've made any difference. When _he_ lost focus, Jakob's sword ran him through from stomach to hipbone. The rest played out like a gruesome movie set to the most horrifyingly slow motion.

Edward fell to his knees, his sword slipping from his hand. Jakob lifted his own blood-soaked sword. His white teeth gleamed in the moonlight as he aimed the crimson tip at Edward's heart.

Throwing back my head, I screamed at the heavens above.

The ground under us rumbled and shook. Wide, jagged cracks dozens of feet wide and hundreds of feet deep split and opened. They swallowed the werewolves, not by the tens or hundreds, but by the thousands.

In that one moment, Jakob lost his momentum, and Edward pushed away the tip of the sword. He dropped to his back and rammed a foot into Jakob's stomach.

Once again, Jakob went flying.

All around us, werewolves fell into the cracks between the earth. When Edward stood up, his stomach still oozing black blood, I watched him heal just as the wounds in my hands were already healing.

In a split second, he was kneeling at my side. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I choked, "and I'm failing everyone."

"Shh." He caressed my cheek. "You are not failing! Bella, all of us, we all came into this ready to-"

"Sister, are you okay?" Emmett yelled from across the field.

I looked up at him and smiled weakly. "Yes. I'm glad you came. Where's my dad?"

"He's safe, Bella. I promise you." Then, he gave me a wide grin and took a step toward me.

He was still grinning when a werewolf hiding in the large bushes pounced on his shoulders.

I remember the world spinning on a nauseating axis. I recall a weight on my chest and difficulty breathing. I remember a series of strange, low sounds, and I remember realizing the sounds came from me.

I remember furiously sweeping a hand in a circle above me and freezing all the remaining werewolves, all except for the one who tore out my brother's heart. That one laid on the ground writhing in agony every time I clenched and unclenched my hands, mangling its insides. I also vaguely remember realizing I'd just discovered a new way to kill.

I don't recall actually kneeling before Emmett, but I was suddenly there. Edward stood behind me, the rest of the remaining vampires encircling us. I remember hot tears falling over the gaping hole in Emmett's chest, where what remained of his heart allowed him one last word.

"Sister."

I picked up his once powerful hand and pressed it to my mouth, kissing it softly.

"Emmett…brother."

I wish I could say he said more or that I said more, something profound, some words which made the separation easier. Instead, he simply stopped existing. I reached up and gently closed his eyelids. And as I wept at his side, a peculiar, glowing light appeared behind him.

It grew brighter, took up more space and became a white tunnel. From this white tunnel emerged a beautiful young woman, vaporous and ethereal, with long, flowing blond hair. She wore a tunic matching her cornflower blue eyes. As I stared at her, a man stepped out from the light.

He wore the noble vestments of Lord Emmot of House Swein, and he was now as intangible as the woman next to him. For the few seconds in which they stood before me, they smiled, their hands weaved together.

"She waited," I said, smiling back through my tears. "Rosalie waited for you, brother."

"What do you see, Bella?" Edward murmured.

"I see…I see he's okay," I whispered. "He's home."

Emmett and Rosalie said nothing. After a handful of seconds, they turned and stepped back into the light. It dimmed…dimmed…and disappeared.

For a few minutes, I knelt there numbly. It was one short moment of reprieve, of relative calm. In that small moment of eerie silence, I recalled my mother's words.

… _before this solstice ends, your losses may run even deeper. It's what happens when we shape our own destiny…_

When I again heard Jakob's voice, I began to wonder how deep the cost of shaping my own destiny would run and whether I was actually willing to pay such a steep price.

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **Still with me? Yeah? No?**

 **Hang in there.**

 **Chapter Song Rec: Cry Little Sister (Thou Shalt Not Fall) by G Tom Mac (Rec'd it for previous chapters, but...yeah, it fit here as well.)**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook: Stories by PattyRose**

 **Enjoy the rest of your weekend. See you guys on Monday.**


	34. Chapter 33 - Consequences

**A/N: Thank you so much for your wonderful thoughts. We're close to the end here…**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes. (All remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

* * *

 **Chapter 33 – Consequences**

The first glint of daylight appeared while I knelt on the cold ground next to my immortal brother's dead body. Burnt orange streaks crisscrossed the heavens like heralds announcing dawn. When I looked over my shoulder and caught Edward's gaze angled upward, I knew he was seeing and thinking the same thing that I was. As strong as Jakob had been all night, his power would only increase between now and solar noon.

"The sun is rising," Jasper announced more as if he needed something to say, some way to take his mind from his dead comrade.

Edward nodded. "He'll make his last stand."

In quick unison, all the vampires formed a circle around me. Then one by one, the twelve remaining vampires began falling to their knees.

In that part of my mind which wasn't at that moment utterly bewildered, I had a vague awareness of Edward bellowing orders for them to flank me, to protect me at all costs. I recall watching as Jasper and the remaining vampires fought those few werewolves which had broken through my invisible shield.

"Bella, strengthen the shield!"

My brother, Lord Emmot of House Swein.

There were so many things I never got to tell him, so many moments we'd never share, memories we'd never relive together. Yes, he was with his Rosalie now, perhaps in an existence where their child was still an infant. Perhaps, Emmett's eternity now consisted of a world where he could raise his daughter, live in peace and harmony with his wife, and reclaim all those wonderfully human moments which were stolen from him.

But he was my family too, and I would never see him again. And at that moment, I was selfish enough to put my hatred and wrath before his eternal peace.

Chest heaving, I stood and lifted my hands. With hot, enraged blood flowing like lava through my fingers, I uprooted trees and left them waiting in midair for Jakob's next attempt to pick off another victim. Because when he did, I'd be ready. With my new found surge, I'd wipe him off the face of this planet. I'd clean the cold, snowy, and bloody fucking ground with him. I'd make him rue the day he fucked with me and mine.

When he came, he appeared as only a flash, a split-second burst, and I sent the trees flying.

He was a flicker that lasted just long enough to rip out Charlotte's heart and sprint away. The trees never touched him. Only a ridiculously misplaced and nauseating shimmer remained in his wake like some warped-ass version of Tinkerfuckingbell.

Then Liam fell.

I sent more trees and boulders flying in his direction. Then I pointed my surge directly at him. Time and again, it was all just a split second too late.

The sky lightened, brilliant rays fought to break through the canopy of darkness as I howled in fury at my continuing failure. At the same time, I struggled to physically and mentally maintain the invisible force field holding off the remaining werewolves. Yet no matter what I did, the circle around me continued to dwindle.

"They're your weakness, Bellaria, not your strength," Jakob said a second after pulling out Sasha's heart. Only five – including Jasper and Edward – remained.

"You son of a bitch, I'll end you!"

His ensuing chuckle was loaded with amusement, especially when once again, my surge failed to strike fast enough before Henri fell.

"No, you won't, my little hellcat. You're angry, yes, and it's understandable. You're confused; you seem to think it's your duty, your purpose, to save them. But once they're all gone, you'll see that it's all as it should be."

"I won't allow you to take any more of them!" I cried defiantly.

When Raoul fell, it left three vampires surrounding me – Diego, Jasper…and Edward. My fury instantly morphed into dread.

"Oh God." Panic crushed my lungs as it welled inside of me, making it hard for me to breathe. Wildly, my eyes flew between Edward and Jasper. "God, no."

"Bella, focus, and protect yourself, damn it!" Edward commanded.

But the swell of panic now flooding my limbs and surging through my veins weakened my hands and my mind. As the sun began its highest ascent from behind the majestic mountains, I shut my eyes and frantically tried to project the field around us so that neither the wolves nor Jakob could breach it.

But the shield holding off the horde cracked, and a few dozen werewolves broke through.

" _Fuck_!" I pointed my shaking hands, catching and destroying most of them. The handful which escaped were quickly disposed of by the three remaining vampires. And as Diego tore off the head of the last werewolf, he fell forward himself. I looked down in horror at the hole in his chest.

Every organ in my body threatened to expel itself. While Jasper and Edward flanked me, my hands and eyes shifted around hysterically.

"Where are you, you fucking coward?" I screeched. "Show yourself!"

"You see, Bellaria? Neither you nor your vampires are strong enough to hold _me_ off. I am the ancient of the ancients, and I _will_ have you."

As I feverishly, I swept my gaze around the forest, Edward grabbed my shoulders, his mouth moving, but the blood pounding in my ears kept me from hearing his words. He cradled my face, forcing himself into my line of vision.

"Damn it, Bella, do you hear me? Protect _yourself_! No matter what happens, do _not_ let him distract you!"

"They're dead. They're _all_ dead because of me. I couldn't save them, and now…oh, God, now..!"

"MY LADY!" Jasper roared. He grabbed my shoulders and turned me towards him. "I'm next, and I'm ready."

"No! No, Jasper!"

"Listen to me! LISTEN TO ME!" He shook me, his next words erupting in a frenzied rush. "My Lord Edward, your husband, he chose us and prepared us well. Know this, my lady: All here knew this was likely our last night, and we were _all_ ready."

"No! I won't allow it!"

"There is no time for regrets! Listen! My lady, we have led full, extended lives, so what is there to lament? Now, you must focus! Your powers grow with the solstice sun's approach, as do his! Yet, he has had millennia to learn! You must continue learning!" He took a second to offer me a soft, though bittersweet grin. "Lady Bellaria, it has been an honor. Thank you, for allowing me after so many centuries to learn right alongside you what faith truly means. Most importantly, please always remember that _you_ make your own-"

The rest of his words were cut off. I watched his eyes roll to the back of his head. And as the sun reached its early morning position, sending its bright rays dancing like forest fairies all around us, Sir Jasper of the White Locks fell to his knees and toppled over.

"Jasper," I gasped soundlessly.

Hot tears trekked down my cheeks, pooling on my quivering chin. This time, when the white tunnel appeared, I held my breath hopefully.

A young maiden emerged from the light, with long, jet black hair and a soft smile. She wore the clothes of a peasant girl, the clothing of a brander's daughter.

"Alise," I whispered.

Jasper materialized at her side, gauzy and transparent….and smiling. He took her equally ethereal hand, and for a few seconds, they simply gazed at one another. Then, they turned and walked together through the tunnel.

"Thank you," I breathed.

"Bella, come."

Edward pulled me up urgently so he could shield me within his embrace. He burrowed my head against his chest and wrapped his frame around mine as if making his body a cage for me. I felt the low, menacing growl which emanated from him.

"I will never allow you to have her," he warned, his voice controlled and deadly.

In contrast, Jakob's strangely gentle voice echoed throughout the lit forest.

"I know it's painful and emasculating to accept, but you can't stop me. Yes, I was cursed, but none of that matters on this dawn. This is _my_ dawn. You'll be dead in a few moments, and eventually, she'll recall everything she should and forget those things that aren't worth remembering. Take solace in that fact."

"NO!" Lifting my head and my hands, I scanned the hazy forest where the sun's beams cut through the canopy of branches, casting shadows and keeping Jakob well hidden.

"Bella!" Edward hissed. "Protect _yourself_!"

"You see, Bellaria?" Jakob spoke from somewhere unseen. "I told you, my little witch. He's your weakness, not your strength. And now, we face the consequences of that because you'd give yourself to me right now just to save him, wouldn't you? His efforts were doomed from the start."

"No, Bella!" Edward grabbed me by the shoulders and locked me in his gaze. "Don't you dare!" he scowled. "Don't you _ever_ dare!" he hissed.

"Edward, let go of me! I have to find-"

When Edward's eyes widened and he fell to his knees, I fell right with him. And while he stared at me blindly, all I saw was him. Everything else in the world fell to my periphery, nonexistent and inconsequential.

In that moment, as I placed my hand over the gaping hole in Edward's chest, over what remained of his mangled heart, snippets of a conversation he and I had a few weeks earlier replayed in my mind:

 _As Bellaria, it was me you needed, I whom you adored…you would have done_ _ **anything**_ _for me regardless of the consequences. As Bella, that no longer holds true…perhaps someday, you will adore me the way you once did…regardless of the consequences..._

I now believed…I now knew I was Bellaria. And I knew without a shadow of a doubt, that no matter the consequences, I would do anything to save Edward.

Instinctively, I pushed my wrist against his mouth. "Bite, Edward."

"No! NO, BELLARIA!" Jakob roared.

In one of his blinding flashes, he rushed forward, but this time, when I threw up my palm, Jakob stopped moving as if he'd hit a wall.

"NO!"

I turned my attention back to Edward.

"Edward, husband, _bite_."

The glowing brightness in his green eyes dimmed. They fell shut, and his head rolled forward.

"Edward, bite!"

I brought my wrist to my own mouth and clamped my teeth over the vein I could see throbbing through my skin. With a whimper of pain, I pulled hard.

Artery now spurting, I returned my wrist to Edward's pale lips.

"DRINK!"

"Bellaria, NO! You are MINE! Your blood belongs to ME!"

The rich substance dripped from my wrist in thick droplets. It ran down Edward's jaw like a rivulet and fell onto the snowy ground between us. It stained Edward's colorless lips.

Moments turned to seconds, yet Edward's eyes remained closed. His torso swayed, held up by gravity and nothing more. His mouth hung open…unmoving. And being the self-healing sorceress I was, my vein began to heal.

"No," I spat through clenched teeth, returning my wrist to my mouth and repeating the process. Again, I pressed my arm to Edward's still mouth.

"Bellaria, my sweet sorceress, don't you see he's gone? His time has come to an end, and the sooner you accept it, the easier the rest will be. Even you and your sweet blood can't bring back the truly dead."

As I knelt there, one palm still extended out toward Jakob and the other in a fist next to Edward's cold cheek, I began planning all the ways in which I would dismember Jakob. I would tear him limb from limb. I would mutilate him until he was nothing more than an unrecognizable lump of putrid meat. Even as I felt my vein once again closing, I plotted and planned Jakob's painful destruction, even if it was the last thing I did. It _would_ be the last thing.

My wrist tingled as my artery healed. The tingling turned into a mild pressure.

The pressure increased, morphing into a suctioning sensation as if I'd put a vacuum to my wrist. I watched Edward's mouth latch on. His Adam's apple bobbed, slowly then faster, with mounting urgency, with growing thirst and hunger.

When his hands shot up and he grabbed my wrist, pushing it deeper into his mouth and groaning, my own sighs were audible. The deep moans and gulping sounds emanating from his throat with every swallow were the sweetest music.

"Yes. Yes, baby, drink. My blood will be your strength as always…for always."

"No! No, Bellaria! It's _my_ blood!"

With one arm extended for Edward's use while the other struggled to hold back Jakob, the throbbing in my head intensified. Yet at the same time, I felt such a deep sense of peace, a warmth spreading throughout my body. It made me lethargic. Every one of my limbs felt heavier than I could've ever imagined.

Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I understood what was happening. It was something of which Edward had once warned me – the human's pleasure and paralysis while the vampire fed – a biological safeguard to keep the victim from escaping. As if I would've attempted escape. If I recalled correctly despite the sensually placid lull in my brain, once he stopped feeding, unimaginable agony would ensue.

But I wouldn't dwell on that.

Nevertheless, even as I enjoyed the sensation, I struggled against the sluggishness. I fought the drain on my energy because I needed both mental and physical strength to keep Jakob away.

When I dropped my gaze to Edward's chest, I received all the boost of strength I'd ever need. His mangled heart was reshaping itself, reforming, strengthening if not actually beating. Right before my eyes, the hole in his chest started closing.

Edward took one long, last gulp. With his eyes still closed, and with a sated, half grin spread across his beautiful, blood-rimmed mouth, he pulled away.

My knees gave.

"Bella! Christ's love, Bella! Jesus in heaven, what have I done?"

He lifted me off the ground and wrapped me in his arms. His chest heaved, eyes now wide open, crimson and wild.

My vampire. My immortal.

"You've damaged her!" Jakob roared.

"I'm okay," I whispered. "I promise you, Edward, I'm okay."

"Are you in pain?" he choked. "Tell me where it hurts, Bella."

I cradled his cheek. "It doesn't hurt at all, Edward. I'm just a bit drained, but I'll be-"

The forest erupted in a furious cacophony, so fierce and thunderous that I had to clap my hands over my ears. Again, I found myself flat on the ground, and I saw that my shield against Jakob had given, and now…now Edward and Jakob waged real war.

Their swords clashed, steel against steel. They swung in wide arcs, slicing through the air, through branches, through tree trunks. They aimed for one another's heads, for limbs, and throats. Howling and roaring in fury, they exchanged massive blows and outraged jabs.

And minute by minute, my own strength returned. My blood supply replenished itself, and I lifted myself off the ground.

Pointing my fingers at a gathering of the tall, massive trees that grew in the distance, I uprooted and held them suspended in mid-air. Then, I closed my eyes and visualized Jakob moving quick as lightning.

"Edward, watch out!"

Jakob looked up as the group of colossal trees descended and hammered him into the ground. I had just enough time to gasp before he emerged again, sword up in the air and headed for Edward.

"You're getting stronger, Bellaria. But so am I!"

"Fuck!" I growled.

Over and over, I uprooted trees and sent them soaring. Sometimes, they'd reach him, sometimes he'd catch them in midair with one hand, and send them flying. I sent rocks, boulders, the SWAT vans, anything I could find, toward him.

"Anything you can do, Bellaria," he chuckled as he crossed swords with Edward, "I can do better. I am the ancient of ancients. Even both of you combined against me can't win – not today."

Hours transpired. The sun rose higher and higher in the sky, moving westward ever so slowly, soaring until it was so damn close to the middle, to the zenith.

Close to solar noon.

As if the same thought was going through Edward's mind, his gaze flashed upward.

Something in his eyes shifted, hardened into impenetrable rock and force, leaving in its wake a rage unlike any I'd ever witnessed in him. His features filled with an unimaginable savagery, looking every inch the ferocious predator of tales of old, hell bent on nothing less than total death and destruction.

I gasped as he lifted his sword and with two hands, he brought it high above his head. And with a roar of unbound fury that rumbled throughout the mountains and swayed the remaining trees, Edward swung.

When the sword came down, Jakob's head went flying.

It rolled and hit a lone tree trunk. The torso fell to its knees and toppled. And all at once, all the remaining werewolves dropped to their stomachs.

For a couple of endless minutes, nothing else happened.

As I looked up at the bright yellow sun, ever so close to zenith, a hesitant, forced one corner of my mouth upward.

I looked at Edward, at my husband. "Is it over?"

His bare chest heaved, the spot where the hole gaped earlier completely healed. The rest of the slashes received throughout this battle were already healing as well, the black blood drying and congealing.

My knight – my Sir Edward, the son of the mason.

With his own careful hesitance, and then as if he couldn't contain himself, his mouth twisted into a tentative smile.

"I think…"

He trailed off, his head slowly angling sideways, following movement he must've seen in his periphery.

Jakob's torso calmly sat up. At the same time, the head resting next to the tree trunk rolled back toward the torso. It stopped when it hit the torso's leg. The hands picked it up, gingerly replacing it over the shoulders. The head moved around, readjusting itself.

I clamped a hand over my mouth, trying to keep down the bile in my throat.

Satisfied with its position, the head turned and looked at me with a grin.

"My little witch, haven't you learned? I am the ancient of ancients, and it takes a lot more than a mere flesh wound to end my existence."

In the next moment, Jakob rammed into Edward's stomach, throwing him backward.

"I'm done toying with you, son of the mason."

He lifted his hand and brandished nails that were now claws – yellow, ancient, and thick claws. Edward grabbed his arm with both hands, but it kept moving downward.

With one hand, I pointed towards hundreds of trees, dozens of boulders, and lifted them all into the sky, catapulting them toward Jakob. With my other hand, I tried with every fiber of my being to prevent Jakob's claw from advancing.

But with a flick of his wrist, he caught the miniature forest and held it suspended And all the while, his other hand forged ahead.

My brain throbbed, blood dripped from my nostrils from the pressure and strain.

The longest nail broke skin.

"STOP!" I fisted my hair and heaved away the forest uselessly hanging over Jakob. "Stop, stop, stop, STOP! Please, I'll do anything, just _stop_!"

In a flash, Jakob stood at my side.

When Edward jumped up and rushed forward, I held out my palm. He reeled back, bewildered. Again, he bolted forward only to hit my invisible wall.

His wild eyes met mine. "No, Bella," he choked. " _No_."

"There's no other way," I whispered.

"NO, BELLA!" Edward's furious fists struck the invisible, unfaltering wall. "NO!"

"I'm sorry, Edward," I cried. "I'm sorry, but he'll never stop, and I'll do anything for you, regardless of the consequences."

"She's right; I won't stop," Jakob confirmed with a shrug. "In a few, short minutes, the sun will reach its zenith, and in those minutes, I'll be even more powerful than I am right now. I can spend those minutes either ending you once and for all or…" He palmed my cheek, and I gasped at his ice-cold touch. "Or I can spend that time joining with you," he murmured, " _making love_ with you."

"NO!" Edward roared.

Jakob held my gaze intently. "And if by some miracle, I'm not able to have you this solstice, then I'll come for you next solstice. Now that I know where you are, _who_ you are, my Bella…Bellaria…my Isba, I'll _never_ let you go."

Silent tears streaked down my face. Jakob wiped them off. "Shh, don't cry. This is _good_ ," he chuckled. "I know you're unhappy now, but everything will be fine once our destinies are fulfilled."

"And then…then you promise to leave him alone?"

"Christ's love, Bella, do not do this!" Edward pleaded. Again, he threw himself against the wall, but it was too strong.

In the background, the wolves whimpered and howled.

Jakob sighed. "You and I will disappear together, so that you may bear my child. And then once the child is born, you need never fear I'll harm the son of the mason."

I held his dark gaze, my useless hands fisted at my sides. "Maybe you're right. Maybe Edward and I are one another's weakness, but you don't love me, so don't ever call me _my love_."

He held my gaze silently, scrutinizing me, and then snorted. "As you wish."

"What do I have to do?" I asked.

"Bella, I'm begging you, don't." With a feral growl, Edward slammed his fists again and again against the invisible wall.

Jakob quirked a brow. "What do you have to do? I believe children are created the same way nowadays as they were then."

" _Now_?" I asked in horror.

He looked to where the sun was close to zenith, hanging almost directly above the most majestic of the Cascadian mountains.

"Yes. We're running out of time."

"Bellaria." Edward's voice was now a strangled whisper. " _Don't_ do this. You swore we'd fight to the end. You _swore_."

With a deep breath, I forced myself to look at him. His nostrils flared in outrage and agony. His mouth was set in a scowl of horror, incredulity, and…disgust.

"I would've fought to my end, Edward, but not to yours. Never to yours."

"Then it is true," he murmured brokenly. "You have always been my strength, but I am truly your weakness."

Tears clouded my vision of him, yet I kept looking, punishing myself by witnessing his pain.

"Bellaria…Isba, it's almost time."

In contrast, Jakob was practically giddy. When he took my hand and weaved his fingers through mine, I swallowed back vomit as an image of what his real hands looked like flitted through my mind. He pulled me closer, and I kept my gaze averted. When he reached down and lifted my chin, slowly leaning toward me, I swallowed thickly.

"Bella," Edward gasped breathlessly. "Bella, no. Christ's love, no."

"Don't watch, Edward. Please, don't watch," I begged, my eyes forcefully locked within Jakob's dark gaze.

"Bella…" Jakob smiled, his mouth nearing, his breath unsettlingly sweet, like a whiff of cotton candy on a warm night.

"Bella, please don't."

"Don't watch, Edward."

Jakob glanced upward again. He grinned at the sun's position atop the mountain's peak. "Ahh, perfect."

When he took my bottom lip between his own, Edward roared. It mixed with Jakob's moan as the entire thing became one horrible, blood-curdling and never-ending sound.

"Let go, Bella," Jakob murmured tenderly, his breath like strawberries. "Let go, and this will be better for us both. Don't pay any heed to the son of the mason if he chooses to watch me love you."

"No! No, I will kill you for touching her! I will cut off your ancient, rotten cock and feed it to your own wolves!"

Jakob chuckled quietly. He pulled away to look at me, raking his fingers through my hair. He quirked a questioning brow.

"Perhaps you can learn to listen to his empty threats and see his helpless gaze on us as an extra layer of pleasure?" His dark eyes sparkled with his impish suggestion.

"No, I don't think I can."

"Try it, for me."

Before I could respond, he crushed his mouth to mine.

All my breath left me, and I fisted the hem of his shirt so tightly that my nails dug into my own knuckles. I squeezed my eyes shut, and as his tongue attacked my mouth, I tried desperately to drown out Edward's roars and howls, to push away his pain.

"Let go…" Jakob murmured, so quietly it almost sounded as if he was speaking to me in my head. "Bellaria…let go…"

Despite my loathing and disgust toward this man…this beast with his tongue dug deep in my mouth and his hands possessively on my hips, his mouth was undeniably warm. He sucked on my lips, alternating with soft then hungry pulls, the sounds emanating from him vacillating between rough then sweet.

And…and Edward's fury and outrage in the background began to fade. As Jakob caressed my hips, Edward's cries became lost in the cold, early morning breeze. Jakob cradled my cheek in an icy yet smooth hand, and the memory of Edward's touch became a hazy shadow in the midnight mist.

My fists loosened, nails no longer digging. My breaths deepened.

"Yes…"

"Christ's love, no."

Dizzy and disoriented, I pulled back as Jakob's mouth began trailing, ghosting down my jaw and across my neck.

He chuckled. "Wicked little nymph. You made me work so hard."

I grabbed his face, and he groaned. "I want you."

"Then take me," I breathed.

"No!" I thought I heard someone yell in the background.

Jakob's black eyes sparkled like diamonds as he lowered us to the ground. The wolves whimpered and panted as he hovered above me, and I fisted the hair at his temples.

"Take me, Beautiful One."

"Yessss, at long last," he breathed as I guided his mouth to my neck, giggling when he licked me.

"Take me." I pushed his face deeper into the crook of my neck as his hand moved to the hem of my destroyed sweatpants. I stared up at the sun, high in the sky, higher than I'd ever seen it rise. "Under the solstice sun, so high in the sky, take me….and _bite_ me," I breathed, "as you were always meant to."

He stilled for a moment. Then…I felt his teeth pierce my skin just a few millimeters from where…where…

My back arched. "Drink," I smiled, fisting the short hair along the nape of his neck. "Drink deep, Beautiful One."

He braced himself on my shoulders and hissed long and deep, pulling my skin between his teeth, suctioning and sucking, moaning in ecstasy.

"Your blood is _my_ strength," he growled, "not the leech's but _mine_."

And while he took his fill, I stared up at the sky, watching the barren branches of the once beautiful cherry blossom tree above us sway in the morning breeze.

With one last lap, he smacked his lips together, sated. His hands returned to the hem of my pants. "That was absolutely and deliciously exquisite," he chuckled. "And now that you've filled me, I will fill-"

When his hands stilled around the hem of my pants, I closed my eyes and turned my head sideways, trying to draw in some clean, mountain air. When he backed away, slowly and stiffly, I met his eyes, which were wide and confused. He removed the hand at my hem and circled it around his throat instead.

I sat up just as languidly, my head still spinning, and drained from my loss of blood. As I peeled myself out from under Jakob, I kept my gaze on his bewildered one.

"What's wrong, Jakob?"

"I…I don't…" He sounded dazed, disoriented. "What…what did you…?"

My brows furrowed. "What did I what?"

He fell back on his ass.

Now that I was out from under him, I leaned in closer, on my hands and knees, my eyes level with his red, slightly bulging ones.

Tilting my head sideways, I narrowed my gaze. "What is it? Haven't you wanted this for thousands of years?" I smiled softly. "Haven't you been waiting all this time for me?"

Low, gurgling noises began erupting from deep within his throat. He brought up both hands to encircle his neck.

"Haven't you craved the strength of my bloodline," I murmured seductively, "blood both ancient _and_ infused with power? I figured I'd let you have it straight from the source," I shrugged, "while under the solstice sun when you…and _I_ are at our strongest."

He fell backward, flat on his back, and began writhing. I hovered above him and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"Now choke on it, motherfucker."

* * *

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 **Enjoy the rest of your week.**


	35. Chapter 34 - Broken Curse

**A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts. I'm taking you all on a roller-coaster ride of emotions, I know, so thanks for sticking around.**

 *****THE EPILOGUE WILL POST TOMORROW.*****

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes. (All remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

* * *

 **Chapter 34 – Broken Curse**

It was strange; as Jakob laid on the cold, snowy ground, thrashing and flailing about, I hovered above him impassively, even fearlessly. Some part of me knew it wasn't only stupid but needlessly cruel and sadistic to just stare at him while he struggled for air. Yet, the more he suffered, the stronger…the more invigorated I felt.

"Devious little whore," he strangled.

"Bella! Bella, drop this force field!"

I pulled back just enough to meet Jakob's wild, bulging eyes. "Devious? What was so devious? You talk about my only seeing what I wanted to see, but you were there for it all, you heard everything first-hand, yet you only chose to hear and see what you wanted."

Suddenly, as Jakob howled in pain, a black, streaming cloud erupted from his mouth like an oozing river. It shot toward the sun, rising until the entire stream disappeared into the much gauzier, white clouds. A few seconds later, another surge appeared, this one golden, beautiful, and flowing downward. It coursed into my hands, and I absorbed it like a flower absorbs nature's sustenance, filtering the bad and only accepting the good.

"Christ's love! Bella, drop the force field and let me through! You're not thinking clearly!"

With a groan, Jakob's head fell forward once again. As his strength was sapped, his face began morphing just as had those of his minions earlier. But Jakob's metamorphosis was a thousand times worse. As I watched, his rich, black hair fell off, exposing a shriveling scalp. He had horribly decayed skin, and the fangs which suddenly protruded were yellow and rotted. Two fleshy horns jutting from his forehead.

More disgusted than frightened, I jerked away and sat on the snow.

"Jakob, do you know why my blood was able to create immortality in Sir Edward, Son of the Mason, and in Jasper of the White Locks? It's because my blood already had immortality in it," I hissed.

A series of repulsive, nonsensical sounds bubbled in his throat.

"Do you know why my blood just gave Edward strength and why it reshaped his mangled heart? Because it was _my_ blood which made him immortal in the first place. Yes, his creator completed the transformation, but my blood began it. My blood, _Bellaria's_ blood, already carried immortality in it."

"Bella, move away from him! He is toxic!"

"And have you guessed now why you're writhing in agony, why it feels as if your throat is closing off, as if hot lava spikes are poking through your veins, and why your insides feel as they're grinding into mulch? Do you know why you would've never been able to mate with me, you stupid fucking beast? Do you finally get that _I_ am part vampire and that's why my blood, my _vampire-gypsy_ blood," I grinned, "repels you?"

"BELLA, LET ME THROUGH!"

"Since the day Rena cursed you, you'd already lost, and you didn't even realize it. When Lord Karles killed Bellaria…killed _me_ , when they killed my unborn child," I seethed, "it fulfilled the entire prophecy. It gave me the visions I would need to beat you, and to be reborn stronger than ever. The ending, the conclusion to this tale was all in Nitzevet's and in Rena's words, yet _you_ chose to only hear what you wanted."

"Bellaria," Jakob panted, struggling to breathe, "the sun is still high in the sky. There is still time to-"

"Time to what? What do you think you'll be doing under the solstice sun, Jakob?" I chuckled. "This is _my_ sun."

"Treacherous imp, you cannot fight destiny, and as soon as I catch my breath, I will-"

"Jake, Jakob, Iakobus, or whatever the hell your name is, _you_ are not my destiny. I make my own fucking destiny," I sneered. "If Isba ever truly existed, _I_ was not her _._ I saw her; I didn't see _through_ her. That makes all the difference, asshole." I rose to my feet and wiped off my hands on my tattered sweatpants. "And one more thing. I'm not giving you a chance to catch your breath."

I threw my hands to the sky and filled them with the solstice sun's unequal power. Like magnets, my fingers aligned themselves with the sun's rays. I felt their heat and energy; I felt the rightness of it.

I felt how it was _always_ meant for me, for Bellaria Reborn.

"You obtuse harlot," Jakob half-snickered, half-gasped. "You can't destroy me with your hands, no matter how much energy you harness. Haven't you learned?"

When the heat was almost too much to bear, I crossed my outstretched arms together. The sun's rays receded.

"Oh, the surge isn't meant for you, Jakob; at least, not directly. It was a long night, and yes, I _did_ learn."

He managed to chuckle. "And so you choose to torture me and prolong the inevitable. But the torture will end, and I'll come after you again, in every lifetime."

"Bella!" Edward roared.

"No, Jakob, you won't. You see, you showed me the _entire_ vision. Remember the mountain?"

When I pointed my fingers, it wasn't at him but at Mount Rainier, with its snow-peaked summit just a few miles away.

Jakob's painful breaths now hitched wildly. "No, you crazy bitch! No! That much power cannot be harnessed by anyone! You'll destroy everything!"

"Bella, no! No! Listen to me!"

A rumbling rose from the earth, shaking the ground on which we stood. It sounded as if the terrain beneath us would break into jagged pieces. It sounded like the stirring of nearing thunder or perhaps a thousand jets flying low.

"Bellaria, hear me!" Jakob wheezed desperately. "You don't know what you're doing!"

The volcano's ivory peak slowly opened.

"Bella, you're out of control, my love! Drop the force field and allow me to help you!"

"He's right, Bellaria!" Jakob shrieked. "The power of the mountains is too strong for you, for _anyone_ to rouse!"

Clouds of grey gas and black smoke filled the air around Mount Rainier's peak. The heat from its core shimmered around the rim, melting the icy glacier as its shade changed and the heat intensified.

"You ignorant, second-rate witch! Rena also believed she could harness the force of a volcano to destroy me! Instead she only managed to bury me for a handful of centuries, and in the process, she destroyed all of Pompeii! She murdered thousands of innocent men, women, and children because she called upon a force she was unable to control!"

"Rena didn't know what I know. She didn't know that we need _beyond_ normal magma to end an immortal, don't we, Jakob?"

"Bellaria, I will FUCKING demolish you!"

"Bella, my love, let me through!"

I blinked rapidly, shaking my head and forcing myself to focus on Jakob. "You won't demolish me because in a few minutes, you'll know longer exist. Rena may have been unequal to controlling the volcano's energy, but I'm not. _I_ am _Bellaria_."

The first burst of liquid fire spewed into the sky.

"Christ's love," Edward said.

That burst was quickly followed by another, then another. Soon, thick bursts of molten lava danced on the mountain's peak.

"Are you willing to destroy an entire fucking region and kill millions of innocent people just to destroy me?" Jakob screeched.

"How many millions of people have _you_ murdered, turned into shifters, werewolves, and mindless monsters over the ages? I'm doing the world a favor by finally ridding it of you!"

In the next moment, the bursting lava fell over the side of the mountain. It mixed with snow, mud, and debris. The liquid concrete rushed downward with the force and speed of a tsunami.

"BELLA!" Edward roared. "Bella, you'll destroy everything and everyone from here to Seattle and beyond!"

"Its lava will only flow toward us, and it will only scorch the earth and immortals! It won't hurt anyone else, Edward, I promise! I'll stop its flow as soon as _he's_ destroyed," I hissed.

"For the love of all that's holy, let me through!"

"No, Edward! You're immortal, and the lava will destroy you too! You have to stay behind the force field!

"Then at least get away from him! _You_ are immortal as well, Bella, and the lava is flowing rapidly!"

He was right. The supernatural magma glowed brighter than any fire I'd ever seen. It raced down the mountain at furious speeds. At its current velocity, had it been flowing toward populated areas, it would've reached the first town in minutes and Seattle's city limits in less than a half hour - woefully insufficient time for any sort of meaningful evacuation.

But that was fine because _I_ was controlling the one-sided flow.

Nevertheless, I could imagine the horror pumping through the hearts of every Washington citizen within the volcano's shadow and beyond. In this day and age of instant data, the entire world was likely aware of what was occurring, most probably terrorized, bewildered by the sudden and unexpected eruption. I could already make out the echoes of sirens far in the distance, dozens of towns employing their emergency broadcast systems. Somewhere, someone was probably calling up The National Guard. GPS maps of previously designated evacuation routes were being retrieved. Cell tower signals were likely already crashing.

"Monstrous wench, do you think your ancestors would approve of you using the gifts handed down to you to scorch the earth? _I_ wanted to return it to its former perfection!"

I took one final look at Jakob laying prostrate on the muddy ground.

"Return it to perfection? What _you_ wanted was to control the entire world! I don't know if my ancestors would approve, but at this moment, I don't really care. You took so much from me, Jakob, yet the only life _I'll_ be taking is yours." I leaned down one last time. "It's flowing superfast. Your end will arrive much quicker than you deserve."

With that, I turned to leave.

"Bella, no! Don't turn your back on-"

The sharp pain that suddenly tore through my shin felt like a hot poker. I fell to the ground screaming.

"Bella!"

"As I said, you're a stupid little witch, who lacks both the power and brains to end me."

I felt something, more than one sharp object, dig deeper into my leg, and I threw back my head and howled in agony. Twisting around, I looked back at Jakob and wished I hadn't.

He was…a beast - as large as an elephant with four clawed legs and a scaled body. With a fanged muzzle and two massively long and pointed horns, he was an ancient being from the most putrid imagination.

"Holy fuck," I breathed, truly terrified now.

"Bella, drop the fucking force field!"

A strangled whimper escaped me as I turned over again and dug my fingernails into the moist earth, trying to crawl away. But with one of the Thing's massive claws impaled in my leg, I couldn't even budge. When another claw dug into my other leg, I was beyond screaming. Instead, my body collapsed limply to the ground.

"BELLA!" Edward bellowed.

"Yes, your contaminated blood weakened me, you vampire's whore," the Thing growled, "but I have enough strength left to keep you here. I am the ancient of ancients. Now, try re-healing with my nails wedged inside your muscle and ligaments, slut. And since you are an _immortal_ slut as well, if the lava reaches us, then you will perish along with me."

"Bella, drop the field!"

"No, Edward! The lava will destroy you too!"

Desperately, I pulled my fingers from the earth and pointed them at the Thing, infusing my surge with as much power as I could muster. He roared, threw back his muzzle and staggered on his hind paws. Yet his front paws refused to release me.

"I warned you that the paltry power in your hands does nothing more than give me a jolt!"

"Bella, please!"

"Stop the lava, you fucking bitch!" The Thing pushed its claws deeper into my legs, and my ensuing howls rivaled those of the remaining werewolves.

"Fuck you!" I spat defiantly over my shoulder. "I won't stop it! Even if I have to die here right along with you, I won't stop it! This curse ends here!"

"BELLA, DROP THE FIELD!"

The ground shook harder. As the lava flow neared, it's heat seeped up through the earth. I tried clawing away. I tried jolting the Thing.

"You only have seconds to stop the lava, Bellaria," it hissed, "or we both die!"

"Then we both die, you fucking monster!"

"Bella, my love, please!" Edward pleaded. "Look at me! Just look at me!"

"Yes, Bellaria! Look at your son of the fucking mason! Allow him to gaze into your eyes as you die! Allow him to see how every single one of his sacrifices was for naught, you selfish bitch!"

"I'll keep him safe," I cried. "Edward, I'll keep you safe."

"No, Bella, no! Look at me, baby! Look at me!"

I glared down at the ground's furious quaking. Snow and dirt danced together frantically as the magma closed in.

"BELLARIA!" Edward yelled.

With a gasp, my head shot up.

"Bellaria, look at me and remember our vow. For always, Bellaria. As always…for always."

In my periphery, I saw the rushing stream of lava tear through the meadow, consuming everything it touched. As the liquid fire reached the last of the wolves and scorched them, their cries filled the burning sky.

"Drop the field, Bellaria," Edward said calmly, his eyes locked on mine.

Molten magma bubbled and boiled. A few crimson droplets spewed up and jumped forward, landing on the Thing's hind paws.

"NO! NO!" the Thing roared.

For a couple of seconds, the most horrifying sounds, the most inhuman shrieks and wails, burst into the afternoon. The fiery droplets spread and consumed the Thing's hairy paws until only bone remained. Then, those disintegrated as well. Suddenly, when a drop landed on my bare ankle, I understood the Thing's torture.

Even that one droplet of lava was the most horrid, the most physically excruciating sensation I could've ever imagined. Yet, I didn't even get an opportunity to scream because in the next moment, in the minuscule fraction of a second after I dropped the force field, Edward lunged.

With his sword raised high in one hand, he swung and beheaded the Thing which was once Jakob, The Beautiful One. With the other hand, he tore me from Jakob's burning clutches. And with a lightning-quick leap, he hauled us out of the lava's racing path a fraction of a second before it reached Jakob's beheaded torso. As the head landed in the middle of the lava's flow, both body parts simultaneously burst into flames.

We landed just a few yards away, displacing snow and muddy earth with a thud as I extended my hand and stopped the lava's flow.

And Jakob…was gone.

Edward's arms wound tightly around me as I wrapped myself around him. Resting his forehead on mine, he brushed his mouth to my lips, to my cheeks, and then to my nose. He reached for my foot, aching but already healing.

"Edward," I finally breathed. "Edward, you saved me."

"Christ's love, Bella," he choked, "you saved me first."

I searched for his mouth again, cradling his face.

"You're safe now. You're _safe_ ," he breathed fervently, repeatedly.

"Bella!"

I looked up and saw my father.

"Dad!"

Carlisle came to a halting stop just across the field, taking in the destruction around us through bewildered eyes. "Jesus."

"Go to your father," Edward said softly.

I stood and quickly ran to Carlisle, who scooped me tightly into his embrace.

"Are you okay?" he asked frantically.

I pulled away. "I'm fine, Dad. Dad, Emmett said you were safe!"

"I was, but with the earthquake, everything toppled, and…and I had to come find you, Bella. I knew I'd be more trouble than help, but I _had_ to get to you, to see you." Again, he pulled me into his arms.

"It's okay, Dad. It's okay, but…Emmett is gone," I informed him in a shaky whisper. "So is Jasper. All the vampires, except Edward..."

"I'm sorry, Bella. They were all good people."

"The monsters came, just as Mom said they would. But we destroyed them, and we destroyed Jakob," I hissed. "He's gone, Dad, and the curse is broken."

He gently pushed me back, narrowing his eyes. "The curse…is _broken_?"

"Yes."

My mind replayed the visions I'd had over the past twenty-four hours, visions of a possible future that now, with the curse broken, could actually be.

I cast my gaze back to Edward.

A few yards away and across the field, he stood gazing and smiling at me tenderly.

Past its Zenith, the sun no longer rested at its highest point, but its rays shone on Edward, illuminating him like an angel. Its bright beams danced in his copper hair. His features were infused with so much love, so much devotion that they lit up the destroyed forest. As I watched him, a flicker of…pain seemed to cross his features.

My brows furrowed.

Then I watched him fall to his knees.

"Edward!"

When I reached him, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and helped him sit up. All the while, I searched his frame for some lingering injury.

"Bella…" he smiled softly, cradling my cheek, "my beautiful wife."

"Edward. Edward, baby, what's wrong?"

My dad was quickly at Edward's other side. "Did he get hurt?"

"Yes, but he heals. He always heals."

Edward's shoulders, too weak to support his torso, sagged further. With my heart ramming painfully against my ribcage, I carefully rested his head on my lap.

"Edward, my love, what is it? What's going on?"

"Bella…I love you, Bella. I've always loved you."

"I love you, too," I choked. "Edward?"

"Let me check him," my dad said in his calm physician's tone.

"No!" I waved away his hands. "No, leave him alone! He's immortal! He doesn't need a mortal man's examination!"

"Perhaps…Bella, perhaps with the curse broken…"

Unbidden, the vision of Edward walking toward me with his hand protectively wrapped around a child's hand replayed itself in my mind. In the background, I saw the university…

"Edward, you and I have a future," I said in a weak, strangled voice, smiling in spite of the tears streaking my cheeks. "The curse is broken, and we can now build our future."

And as I gazed into his beautiful, green eyes, I watched in equal parts amazement and horror as they dimmed from the bright, inhuman glow of Edward, the Vampire, into the soft green of Edward, Son of the Mason.

Lines gradually appeared around those soft green eyes, deepening and spreading across his handsome face. They appeared on his forehead, at his temples, along his copper hair line – hair which grew faintly lighter…then grayed.

"What the…?" I exhaled.

I dropped my horrified gaze to the hand I held in mine, where more wrinkles slowly appeared.

"He's aging," my father said.

"No." I shook my head. "No, he can't age. He's a _vampire_."

Yet, even as I said the words, even as I denied what my eyes were showing me, the gray in his hair spread.

His softened fingers caressed my face. "You're safe now. They're all gone, and your safe. The curse is broken, Bella. I've fulfilled my purpose."

Forgotten, ignored…and misinterpreted lines from _The Verse for Bellaria_ abruptly inundated me:

 _Her blood would one day create immortality…until with the magic in her hands and the gypsy blood in her veins, the chosen one would sate Rena's thirst for vengeance…_

As Edward aged into his late forties…his late fifties, I recalled what he'd said in that castle of long ago, after I was murdered before his eyes.

 _My soul will not rest_ _ **until**_ _I finish all of you._

My lungs constricted so tightly I could barely breathe. "The vampirism…the vampirism was part of the curse, and with Rena's thirst for vengeance complete, the curse is broken. _That's_ why you didn't want to change me," I said as it dawned on me clearly. "All along, you knew what that verse really meant!"

"My love, I wasn't sure, but I couldn't take the chance."

" _No._ No, Edward."

"It was all worth it, Bella. All those years of waiting for you…for the time we had together."

"How do I stop it, Edward?" I rushed. "Edward, tell me how to stop it." I searched the wasted forest frenziedly. "Mom! Mom, where are you?"

It was my stepdad whom replied. "You can't stop it, sweetheart. The curse is broken."

"Mom!" I shrieked, ignoring him. "Mom, tell me how to stop it! Mom!"

… _you must accept that you cannot save everyone. It's not within your realm to do so. What's more, before this solstice ends, your losses may run deeper…_

I squeezed my eyes shut against the memory, cradling Edward's head to my chest and rocking him gently. His thick head of hair was all white now. His face was that of a man in his late sixties.

"No. No, I can fix this."

I visualized Edward as the ageless, powerful vampire who'd entered my life or re-entered my life. Then, I pictured him as the young, strong knight of my time as Bellaria.

When I reopened my eyes, Edward had aged into his seventies.

"No, Edward! NO!"

I sunk my teeth into my wrist and tore off my skin. Then I put my open vein to his mouth.

"Drink, Edward!"

His lips moved against my wrist, but with a grimace, he pulled away.

"Please try," I begged. "My blood is your strength. You have to stay with me, Edward. I saw our future," I cried. "We _have_ a future."

"Bella," Carlisle murmured, "Edward's immortality no longer exists. Your gift is still in your blood, but Edward's immortality is no longer part of that gift. Let him go in peace. He's been alive for over a thousand years. Allow his soul its rest."

"You knew!" I accused.

"Edward confided in me the possibility, yes."

I stroked my husband's face, gazing between his half-lidded eyes and his shallow breaths.

"I saw our future," I repeated numbly, ignoring the tears pooling around my mouth. "I saw our…son. We have a son, Edward. He looks just like you," I smiled.

I palmed his cheek tenderly, a cheek no longer smooth but weathered by so much time. I gazed into his green eyes, once so bright, now dulled by age.

All the while, the forest birds, which had flown away during the battle, slowly returned. They sang their songs and circled in midair as they searched for a place to perch. Woodland creatures which had scurried away at the first sight of werewolves now hesitantly crept back onto the meadow. The waters of the river crashed against rocks.

All around us, life continued despite the vagaries…the whims of nature.

"Bella?" my dad whispered.

I opened my mouth. "NOOOOOOOOO!"

The earth rumbled. Cracks formed on the meadow's surface. The woodland creatures scurried and flew away. Giant bolts of lightning struck the trees in the distance as the sky roared.

"Bella…" Edward squeezed my hand.

Wind picked up and blew whatever remained unfettered into the threatening, darkening heavens. It uprooted trees. It whipped up my hair.

In the distance, Mount Rainier shook now with more fury than ever. All at once, a deluge of lava erupted from its crater, but this time, as it gushed down the mountain, it did so in all directions.

"Bella, no, don't!" my father said. "This isn't what he wants from you!"

Nostrils flaring, and with a heady mixture of fury and despondency roiling within me, I watched the volcano erupt and spew all my pent-up wrath.

Edward wrapped his cold hands around my face, guiding my eyes back to his.

"Don't do this, Bella."

"I can't stop it," I said through clenched teeth.

"Yes, you can." Despite his weakness, his grip tightened. "This is not you, Bella. You are not vengeful. _You_ are not vengeful, my love."

"I'll destroy the whole world without you," I sobbed bitterly.

"You won't. You can stop it, and you will." His thumbs brushed away my tears.

"Don't leave me," I begged. "Please, don't leave me. You have always been the best part of me. The most _human_ part of me. Everything else is meaningless without you. All of this hell was meaningless!"

"It wasn't meaningless, Bella," he said calmly. "Jakob was a soul stealer. He was endless death without rest, and you stopped him."

"Had I known what it would cost…I don't care about any of that without you!"

"You do care." Despite everything, he smiled softly. "I know you care because you're _good_. You are Bellaria Reborn, but more than that…you're _my_ Bella. I waited one thousand years to find you, and it was all worth it because I love you. I love _you_ , not the girl you were in the past; rather, the woman before me now. For always." His lids grew heavy, and he spoke the rest of his words tiredly. "Now, stop the lava, my love. Stop the eruption. I know you can. You've learned how."

"No. No." My sobs racked my frame as yet more memories ran through my head.

 _You control your gift, my lady. You can choose to use it…or not._

 _There must be a middle ground, an order which allows free choice. Sister, I believe_ _we_ _shape our lives within that order._

 _Bella, my love, you are stronger than all your ancestors combined._

The thunder and lightning ceased. Mount Rainier's crater closed. And…the lava stopped.

And I recalled something I'd failed to see earlier:

The university in my vision…it wasn't the university of _now_.

Life continues – in one form or another. In the rules of the human world, there are no extensions. But though we are bound by rules, there are always vagaries within those rules. Did the women of our bloodline see what would certainly be, or did they see the possibilities existing within the framework of our own prophecies?

Edward's breathing slowed and grew shallow. As his eyes closed, I placed a soft, lingering kiss on his lips.

 _It is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves._

"Shakespeare got our story wrong if he used us as the basis for Romeo and Juliet. _We_ are not a tragedy, and we are not star-crossed lovers." I palmed his cheek and smiled. " _Our_ story isn't over," I whispered. "You and I will write our own ending, Edward, and it won't take another thousand years, and it won't be like this. I promise you, it _won't_ be like this."

I recalled something else. It was something he'd once told me as I doubted myself, as I doubted _us_ and wondered how he'd known he'd someday find me:

 _Your soul needed rest, but if your fate was to return, then my fate was to find you._

I brushed my lips back and forth across his. "Go rest your soul, my husband. Accompany our child, but you will _both_ return to me, and I'll await you both. We will find one another again, as always. And this time, we _will_ be together for always. Amor vincit omnia."

As he took his last human breath, I pressed my lips to his once more, and then, the wind carried him off into the clouds.

OOOOOOOOOO

 **June, 2167 A.D.**

Your transport arrived at the Port of Seattle base today.

As it flew over the Puget Sound's deep blue waters, I sat in the Space Needle's café among the crowds gathered to watch today's celebrations. When the transport touched ground, everyone except me clapped. My hands were too jittery to clap, and my heart pounded too fast, faster than it has in...well, in a long while...

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 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **Remember, Epilogue will post TOMORROW.**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

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	36. Epilogue - Edward Cullen

**A/N: Thank you so much for all your wonderful thoughts. Please read the A/N at the end if you have any questions. I've now hit 'Complete' on this one!**

 **Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes. (All remaining mistakes are mine).**

 **Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

* * *

 **Epilogue – Edward Cullen**

 **June 2167 A.D.**

Your transport arrived at the Port of Seattle today.

As it flew over the Puget Sound's deep blue waters, I sat in the Space Needle's café among the crowds of people gathered to watch today's celebrations. When the transport touched ground, everyone clapped except me. My hands were too jittery to clap, and my heart pounded too fast, faster than it has in…well, in a long while.

You're twenty-seven years old now. Technically, you're a year older than me - _technically_. When you left right after graduating college five years ago, I wasn't surprised. The part of your soul which has always thrived when leading and serving is obviously still in full effect.

I've wondered what you felt when you left behind that girl, Jayne, whom you'd dated throughout your last year of college. From the beginning of the relationship, you warned her that you'd be leaving, so she wouldn't be hurt by your departure. More than once, she assured you she was fine with it.

But the day you left, she cried. I watched her weeping as your flight took off, staring after the craft as if she realized she should've said more while she still had time. I suppose at that moment, I felt somewhat sorry for her. After all, I know what losing you is like, and I know the feeling of wishing I hadn't wasted precious time.

It's a clear day today, so clear that the snow-capped peak of Mount Rainier is strikingly visible way in the distance. Its majestic prominence has everyone all the more excited about the upcoming celebration. Nevertheless, as I sit here at the café preparing myself, a few clouds roll in, hovering just behind Rainier.

I suppose I'm anxious. I wonder if you're ready for me. Perhaps I should've approached you before you left – not before you started college, no. You were still too young then. But perhaps when you'd lived some more, when you were older and wiser, as they still say.

Yet, you've always ached to break free, to be the kind of man inherent within you. I could see it in every move and every decision you made. What would you have thought had I told you before you left who you were, had I told you that your soul belonged to me and mine to you?

What will you think of everything _now_?

What will you think of me? How long will it take you to recognize me? And once you do recognize me, how long will it take for you to love me?

 _Will_ you love me?

God, I wonder if these thoughts and doubts plagued you when it was the other way around; when you found _me_. I didn't make it easy for you, I know. It took me a while to recall everything, for my anamnesis to completely take hold. In the meantime, you were so patient.

I hope I can be just as patient with you. Although, even in the reverse situation, you were more considerate than me. You waited almost one thousand years for my return. I've waited one hundred and fifty years for yours. And no, I won't deny I'm thrilled my wait wasn't as long as yours. Nevertheless, we still have challenges ahead of us.

No, not challenges related to the werewolves. Werewolves and shifters no longer exist. They've been extinct from this world for one hundred and fifty years now; although, their myths and legends remain. The most popular story originated as a way to explain the inexplicable events which occurred on the day of the 2017 summer solstice.

According to the myth, the father of all werewolves and shifters – _Garwalf_ , as he's known in popular culture – was the one responsible for the eruption of Mount Rainier. There are a few variations to the tale, but they all revolve around hundreds of thousands of werewolves exploding out of the mountain after being summoned by _Garwalf_. According to myth, _this_ is what caused the massive eruption.

An innocent pair of lovers happened to be in the area during the eruption. When the quick-moving magma consumed and killed her lover, and as the region panicked and prepared for the same fate, the grieving woman raised her hands to the sky and took control of nature, reversing the flow.

Then, consumed with fury, the beautiful woman named _Belnatura,_ who's now as famous throughout the world as are _Garwalf_ and _Count Dracula_ , lifted every single werewolf, including _Garwalf_ , in midair and flung them all into the mountain's crater before its peak closed.

Creatively inventive, yes, but so wrong. However, as a highly intelligent student of mine once pointed out, creative tales evolve from something original and true which first sparks the imagination. _That_ is the stuff of legend.

Of course, scientists quickly arrived at a logical explanation for the events, so all the above is merely a folk tale told for entertainment, a way to sell hologramized images of books and movies.

The world has been calmer, if not necessarily peaceful since Jakob and his minions were eradicated. Vampires, while not entirely extinct, are even fewer in number than they were when you were one. But, by nature, vampires have always been more intelligent creatures. Nevertheless, after our agreement, the Gypsy no longer creates them.

I've written about him in this journal – of the other Beautiful One, Jakob's immortal brother. Rena knew him as _Gar_ , her gypsy gladiator. In the Middle Ages, we knew him as _Geraud_ , Norman friend of Lord Karles and Lord Jakob.

One hundred and fifty years ago, I vaguely knew him as _Garrett_ , Kate's husband, whom I never actually met until after her death. Before then, whenever I visited her, he was always _busy_ _at work_.

It was about a year after losing you that I first met him.

At the time, my stepdad and I were in hiding in one of a chain of volcanic islands in the deep, northern Pacific. Temperately even colder and rainier than the northern mainland, the islands' flora was limited to a dense growth of shrubbery with few, relatively short trees. I know, it sounds like a strange place to go into hiding when you're a grieving sorceress with a habit of expressing your pain through volcanic eruptions. But losing you, or more accurately, knowing the sacrifice you made for me, was the last catalyst I needed to finally learn control.

Anyway, one afternoon, I was walking amidst the thick shrubbery. As I walked, the path flourished with the type of trees and flora I would've found back in Seattle. They gave me a small sense of home at a time when I felt extremely lost. As I stood under a cherry-blossom tree with my face up to the sky attempting to absorb a modicum of heat, my hands tingled in a way they hadn't in over a year.

At first, his pale skin, a total contrast to his brother's ebony skin, blended with the ivory background. Yet his glowing blue eyes gave him away. He watched me warily, and when I dug my hands into my pockets, he made his way from behind the snow-packed trees.

"You're about a year too late," I said. "but you never had any intention of participating, did you?"

He shrugged his broad shoulders. "We were never meant to interfere in mortal affairs. It was why we were punished in the first place."

"Really?" I snorted. "From the beginning, it was all a game, an intense rivalry. Isba preferred him, so you refused to help him with Elisheba. He married Rena, so you took her as your lover."

"You've pieced quite a bit together," he grinned, the sparkles surrounding him dancing.

"I've had nothing but time lately. Then came Bellaria… _me_. You sat there, with Lord Karles and your brother, Jakob, and you watched them kill me and my unborn child."

"I was allowing Rena's prophecy to take hold. I _loved_ Rena," he said.

I held his gaze. "I've come to further conclusions."

"Oh? Such as?"

"Such as that _all_ Beautiful Ones were intelligent, exquisite, and beguiling creatures…yet completely heartless and self-serving."

He sighed.

" _That_ is why your kind was taken from the Earth, not because you fell in love with mortals. You claim you loved Rena, yet when Jakob discovered she was sleeping with you, that her child was _yours_ , you abandoned her. She awoke, and you were no longer at her side."

"I kept the child _safe_ ," he stressed. "I hid Sabella and her descendants from him for as long as possible."

"Yet, you allowed them to kill me, a descendant of the mortal woman you claim you once loved. It's a good thing some sixth sense warned Rena never to tell you of Rosalia, of your other daughter."

"Bellaria, I did not completely abandon you," he grinned. "I turned your brother, whom then turned your friend and your son of the mason, all to protect you."

"All part of your game," I said impassively, "as was marrying Kate…Cateline, and whispering the truth about her previous life to her in bits and pieces."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Bellaria, you won! _We_ won! I don't see why you're upset. I gave you enough so that in the end, you – Rena's descendant, _my_ descendant – could carry the final battle! Yes," he sighed, "you lost the son of the mason once again, but immortality does not equal eternity. Nothing lasts forever. You now know of your own immortality, and you will see that as the years, the decades, and the centuries pass, perpetuity becomes tedious. We immortals seek diversions, that is all."

For a long while, we remained locked in one another's gaze.

"Why are you really here?"

"I wanted to meet you face to face."

I shook my head slowly. "No. No, I think it's simply as you said: you're bored. It seems you've been bored for millennia."

"I-"

He didn't finish his thought before the skies suddenly rumbled and the constant cloud cover darkened. In the near distance, one of the many volcanoes forming the Pacific's Ring of Fire came to life.

Gar's eyes widened. "It was merely a diversion, Bellaria."

A stream of magma burst into the air, but this stream didn't slide down the mountain slope. It traveled like a lightning bolt through the dark skies, heading straight for Gar.

He threw up his hands and halted the bolt. And after an evident breath of relief, he looked at me and grinned.

"Bellaria, I did not come to fight."

Hands still in my pockets, I turned my gaze to the bolt of molten magma: thick, wide, and glowing. When it pitched forward, Gar struggled to stop it, his fingers straining as he fell to the ground and lifted his hands over his head as useless protection.

"Bellaria, no! NO!"

A couple of inches from his blond head of hair, I stopped the flow.

Laying prone on the ground, his breaths came hard and fast.

"Immortality does not equal eternity," I echoed. "I don't want to fight, either. I'm tired of fighting." As I spoke, the magma bolt surged back toward the volcano's peak. "We humans are not your diversion. We were not set on this Earth for your amusement through complex games or for you to love at whim. If you're bored with your immortality, then I can easily solve that problem for you."

"Bellaria-"

"Or…you can find other ways to divert and amuse yourself. The world is an ever-changing and complicated place, and as I was taught by three of the best men to ever walk this earth," I choked, "there is always something new to learn. It's full of true amusements for those brave and adventurous enough to seek them. It's a never-ending fountain of knowledge for those with a true appetite of the mind, and…it does contain true, eternal love for those with the capacity to feel it. I won't end your existence."

He let out a long, ragged breath.

"Despite your less than altruistic reasons, you did return my brother, my friend, and my husband to me, and for that alone, I'll spare you…for now," I qualified, "for as long as I'm assured that you're not using us as a way to pass your existence."

I haven't seen him since, but his visit did teach me something. I realized that it was time to stop hiding, to stop regretting, to stop wasting the gift you – as well as my brother and my friend – preserved for me. The gift of _life_.

Anyway, I don't want to waste any more of today's passage on Gar. There's much more regarding him in the journal I've kept for you if you ever want to read it.

Yes, I've written it all down for you, from our beginning as Lady Bellaria of House Swein and Sir Edward, Son of the Mason, to now. Writing it down was my stepdad's – Carlisle Cullen's – idea. I hope it'll make it easier for you to understand…to believe, even though I've never written as well as you. I'm afraid my account may read more like a cheap romance novel than like a work of genius, as your _Verse for Bellaria_ still does. Regardless, I hope you won't dismiss it all offhand as a work of fiction.

As for my stepdad, he passed away twenty years ago at the age of one hundred and eighty-two – an unnaturally-long lifespan even in this day and age when humans regularly live to be centenarians. He kept me company for a long time. We soon discovered that, as the years passed and I preserved my youth, his was preserved as well. When we separated for a few years to follow separate interests, he aged - not too much, but enough for us to realize that it was his proximity to me which kept him young.

It's been by this process of accidental trial and error, of chance experimentation through which I've discovered and learned to control so much of my gift. Unfortunately, as much as my ancestors handed down to me, they failed to hand down any book or instruction manual for my gifts.

But these are things we can discuss later as well.

It was during this separation I've just mentioned that Carlisle met Elizabeth. I won't go into their story too deeply either because much of Elizabeth and her ancestry is detailed in the journal. I'll only say that it's strange how the vagaries of life and nature work. Those who are meant to find one another, do. My mother, Esme, found Carlisle because she was always meant to find him. Yet, he created the rest of his destiny with her. He could have turned us away, but instead, he chose to love us.

I remained part of Carlisle and Elizabeth's lives for about two decades after their marriage. They had two children, whom throughout their first years knew me as their older sister. But, as they got older, and I failed to age, my visits to them stopped. It wasn't easy to say goodbye to the man who'd been my father for so long, but it was something else of which you'd once warned me:

… _to keep our immortal existence hidden, we are forced to learn to perpetually adapt to and then just as easily dispel with changing ways of life…_

So, before I end this entry (which has gone on much longer than it should've because I'm terrified of setting down the finger-pen), I'll share a passage with you from one of the last letters I received from my stepdad:

 _Our great-great-grandson is seven years old now. He's a handsome young boy, Bella, intelligent and kind. But he drives his mother crazy with his adventurous spirit and imagination. He says he wants to marry a beautiful medieval maiden when he grows up. He says he wants to climb a volcano and slay Garwalf._

 _Look after my family when I'm gone, Bella. Keep an eye on them from afar. And when my great-great-grandson, when…Edward is old enough, look for him._

 _I have always, and I will always love you, my little girl._

OOOOOOOOOO

The old transport has been turned into a museum for the day's activities.

Walking through its gray halls studying all different types of artifacts from that day, I discover varied sized rocks which were once lava before the magma abruptly hardened. Next to the rocks are jagged pieces of glass from a storefront whose large window shattered upon Mount Rainier's eruption. There's a cast of a mangled twenty-first-century bike which was caught in the flow. Now, it's forever preserved by hardened ash.

When I enter the Discussion Room, the walls contain pictures turned into hologram images of the volcano's eruption, and of people casting their eyes upward in horror. In a corner, 4Ds of eyewitness accounts are surrounded by a group of teenagers asking the VRs so many questions that the simulated images can't keep up.

"They're going to overload their systems."

The voice behind me sounds amused despite the prediction. My heart races madly, hands clenching and unclenching at my sides.

"It's probably a good thing," he chuckles quietly, his warm breath close to my neck, "otherwise, my discussion might sound redundant."

With a long, deep breath, I turn around.

You're wearing the lopsided smile I heard in your voice, the one I see in my dreams. Tall and heartbreakingly handsome in your officer's uniform, your hazel green eyes are warm and friendly.

All those years ago, how did you control yourself? How did you keep yourself from rushing me, from crushing me against your chest, from grabbing my face and kissing me wildly?

I don't know if I'll be able to keep myself from doing those things.

And here's something else you were right about: It's not even the fact that you're physically almost exactly the same. My heart, my blood, my very soul all react to you as if they're trying to escape my body to crawl into yours.

You wait for me to say something, to make some response to your quip. When five seconds become ten, your smooth forehead wrinkles.

"Uhm…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No, I'm sure it won't be redundant. There's always something new to learn. I know in today's age, 4Ds are believed as effective if not more so than an actual person, but I think that for some forums, you still can't beat a real human."

You chuckle again, crossing your arms against your chest. "I tend to agree. It's not the most popular opinion among our age group," you wave a finger between us, "we, who've grown up with 4Ds. But as evidenced by the fact that I'll be holding a live discussion in a couple of minutes, I don't believe 4Ds will ever completely replace us."

I can't help staring at you even though it obviously makes you uncomfortable because you clear your throat.

"Are you from the Seattle area or are you just visiting for the celebrations?"

"I'm from around here," I say.

"So am I, originally," you volunteer with a smile when I fail to expand. "Were any of your family in the area when the eruption occurred?"

"Yes," I breathe. "Yes, I had family around."

Again, you wait for me to expand, but my throat is dry, and what I do manage to say comes out so shakily I'm afraid I may scare you away. Of course, my current strategy of silent staring most likely isn't a great one either.

Still, you push on. "Yes, I had family here at the time as well - my great-great-great grandfather, I believe," you chuckle. "My parents used to tell me stories he told them."

"Is that what first sparked your interest in volcanology?"

Your brows furrow in bemusement. "How do you know I'm a volcanologist?"

I point toward the podium on the other side of the room. "They just announced you." I lean in a bit and whisper, "And the crowd is looking at you expectantly."

You turn your head, and when you turn back to me, you're actually _blushing_.

"I'd better go then," you chuckle quietly. "I hope you're planning to stay for the discussion? I promise I'll keep the next half hour as interesting as possible. You may even learn something new." You quirk an eyebrow.

I swallow thickly and smile. "Yes. Yes, of course, I'll stay."

Despite your concern regarding redundancy, the Discussion Room is packed. Men and women of all ages are riveted as you speak. Afterward, they hurl question after question your way.

You not only discuss MR '17 – as the Mount Rainier Eruption of 2017 is now known – in scientific terms, but you mix in Mount Rainier's history, the tribal legends on volcanoes that have surrounded the Pacific Ring of Fire for centuries…and you speak of the legend of _Garwalf_ , _Belnatura_ , and her nameless lover.

"Why is there no name for Belnatura's lover?" a teenaged girl asks during the question and answer session. "Why are Garwalf and Belnatura so famous, yet no one ever bothers with the man who died?"

You walk closer to the girl, standing before her with a smile. Your military uniform is perfectly pressed and official, yet your stance is relaxed and inviting.

"We have no name for Belnatura's lover because he's insignificant to the legend. He's simply a place holder for loss, an excuse for the continuing struggle between the representations of good versus evil. Garwalf represents pure evil, whereas Belnatura represents us, the common human trying to exist yet faced with daily-"

"While I agree that Garwalf was pure evil, I completely disagree with the statement that Belnatura's lover was insignificant to the legend."

Slowly, you swivel toward me with a smile despite the fact that I've interrupted you with my opposing view. Then, you nod in a gesture for me to continue.

"Belnatura's lover was the most important of the three."

Now you lift your brows high. "Can you please elaborate on that thought, Miss…?"

"Masen," I say. "Bellaria Masen."

"Bell-aria," you repeat, and my pulse quickens, "please continue."

"Belnatura's lover is the true hero of the story, but like all true heroes, he sacrificed himself so _she_ could live, so _she_ could go on, and so that her name would be the stuff of legend. All the while, everything she did that day, she did for _him_. She wasn't trying to save the world. She just wanted him. Yet she's immortalized as this great hero when he's the one who gave her the strength to prevail in the first place."

You hold my gaze, your eyes narrowed in apparent thought and consideration of this information.

"I suppose that's a different way to look at things, but it doesn't say much for either of their reasons. If all they were trying to do was save one another, it doesn't make for much of a heroic legend."

"Why not?" I challenge. "Why must every act of heroism nowadays be on a grand scale? Why can't it just be about…love?"

The entire room is silent.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to veer the topic so off course."

You clear your throat. "That's fine…Bell-aria. Thank you for your views."

You continue with your discussion.

OOOOOOOOOO

When the discussion ends, the room clears except for a few people at the opposite corner interacting with the 4Ds. In my periphery, I see you approaching. I'm so keyed up that I drop my small holobook as I rise from my chair.

You pick it up and hand it to me.

"Thank you."

"No problem…Bellaria. I'm sorry, may I call you Bellaria?"

"Of course. It's my name," I smile.

"Please, call me Edward."

I draw in a deep breath, releasing it along with your name. " _Edward_."

Again, your brows knit together. Then, your gaze falls to my holobook.

"You don't see too many people with those anymore," you grin.

"I guess I'm from another era."

"Well, you've preserved yourself well," you chuckle.

Yes, you're just teasing, so I withhold my snort.

"Edward," I say, hoping you don't note how my voice quivers on your name, "I apologize if my comments earlier interfered with your planned discussion."

"Please, Bellaria, don't apologize. I vaguely recall being told once that discussions are meant for meaningful discourse."

My heart stutters. "Do you recall who may have said that?"

"No," you say, smiling and shrugging. "It's just something I heard somewhere."

I swallow back the lump in my throat.

"Bellaria, I'm actually done with my lectures for the day, and I was wondering if you'd like to grab a cup of coffee or something?" You look nervous as if you're unsure of what my response will be. "If you have time, and if you're interested, I'd love to discuss MR '17 with you in further detail."

As soon as you're done with your proposal, you chuckle self-consciously, raking a hand through your dark copper hair. "And that was probably the worst offer you've ever received. Would you like to further discuss MR '17?" you repeat, mocking yourself.

"No, it definitely isn't the worst offer," I reply.

"It's just that in all my years as a volcanologist specializing in MR '17, whenever the myth around it has come up in conversation, no one's ever championed the unnamed lover in the _Legend of Belnatura_ with such conviction." You shrug sheepishly. "It kind of piqued my interest."

"If no one's ever championed him, then that's a true shame," I say softly, "because he was...amazing. And I would love to discuss him, and the legend, further with you."

You swallow, and your Adam's Apple bobs before you gesture with your hand. "Then, may we?"

OOOOOOOOOO

As we make our way through the transport, you tell me more about the craft. It's obvious you're proud of its history.

"It's been overhauled and refitted a few times. In its day and age, however, it was very modern despite the fact that back then, it only traveled on water. It was actually one of the first to respond on MR '17, ready to help the citizens of Seattle in the face of what everyone must've thought was an impending apocalypse."

"But no one actually died," I say, reminding myself as much as I'm reminding you.

"No, there were no recorded fatalities due to the eruption itself, but there was a SWAT team responding to an incident in the Cascades the night before the eruption. It's widely believed that the entire team was caught in some sort of pre-eruption event, as they were never seen or heard from again. As a matter of fact, there were thousands of people who disappeared in the days and hours before the catastrophic event. Nowadays, we believe most of their disappearances can be attributed to pre-eruption events around the world."

"Oh?"

I keep my gaze front and center as you eagerly continue.

"The science of the early twenty-first century hadn't yet developed the Theory of Heat Holes, but today, we think that heat holes may have opened underground in the hours, even days before the eruption, swallowing these people. Then, the earth simply closed around them."

"Yes, I've heard that theory taught at the university."

We walk from the transport, and you lead me down the walkway with your hand on the small of my back. The heat that flows from your hand into my body is almost overwhelming, and I wonder if you feel even a hint of it.

"Which university do you attend?"

"I'm a professor of Medieval Literature at UDub."

You side eye me, nodding. "You must be a great professor if they haven't replaced you with a 4D."

"I don't know if I'm great, but I've always had an unquenchable interest in the period."

"I understand the feeling," you murmur as we walk along the waterfront. The sun is higher and brighter in the sky than I've seen it in a while, and you seem to notice it too. "It's going to be a great solstice today."

"I sure hope so," I whisper.

You take my hand as we cross the street, gently guiding me away from imaginary danger, and my heart clenches.

Again, you clear your throat. "There was some crazy stuff that went down at UDub around the same time as MR '17. I wonder if you've heard of it."

"I have heard stories, yes."

We stroll through the park, where the cherry blossom trees are in full bloom.

"Some of my colleagues believe those events could've been tied to the eruption as well. The volcano's volatility may have caused instability in the earth, which in turn may have led to a stressful environment and-"

"Edward, are you home to stay or do you plan to continue traveling with the military?"

Again, you side eye me, narrowing your eyes once more. "I'm done with the military. This trip back is actually my trip to stay. I've felt…a calling, you might say, to return home."

I stop and look at you, unable to hold back the question bubbling. We're under one of the trees, and the petals fall around you, framing you like a vision from my dreams.

I don't have your self-control.

"Why were you gone for so long, Edward?" I ask.

Your head jerks back, obviously startled by the question. You haven't let go of my hand. Now, you reach with your other arm and place your hand lightly on my forearm. You hold my gaze, your eyes displaying all your confusion, yet you remain open with me.

"You're very direct with your questions." When I say nothing, you sigh and cast your gaze beyond me. "I think…I was searching for something."

"Did you find what you were searching for?"

You return you beautiful green gaze to me, tilting your head sideways, studying me. The sun plays with the copper in your hair. Then you draw in a deep breath and release it slowly.

"Bellaria. Your name means…beautiful song."

My heart jumps.

"I found some things, but no, Bellaria, not everything."

My hands tingle, and as I clench and unclench them, your gaze falls on them and you frown.

"Why are you nervous?"

"What makes you think I'm nervous?"

"Your fingers…" You take both of my hands now, weaving our fingers together. My heart slams against my ribcage in its effort to break free…to go home.

"Bell-Bellaria, I want to tell you something, but I don't want to scare you away." You chuckle nervously.

"Trust me, I don't scare easily."

Your gaze sears into mine as you swallow. "Here's the thing. I…have dreamed of you all my life."

I choke back a sob, yet you bravely keep going.

"I've seen you as a highborn maiden and myself as a knight." Again, your cheeks grow crimson. "I saw you laughing and running in fields of lavender. I saw you and I helping others, clothing and feeding them. I saw you with two other men who were our friends, our brothers. Then…" you frown deeply, "I saw you killed, and I saw myself become…a vampire," you breathe.

You stop there, while my tears flow freely.

"Am I frightening you?" you whisper.

"No," I smile. "No, not at all. Go on."

You inhale and exhale through narrowed lips, your grip tightening.

"In my dreams, I waited for you, and you returned to me. You sat under a tree at the university, a tree just like this one, and you smiled and laughed. You made the trees bloom. Then…" your gaze flashes momentarily behind me and toward Mount Rainier, "we were on that mountain, and you cried over me and said you'd wait."

"I did," I choke. "I waited."

Your beautiful eyes widen, and you cup my cheek in your warm hand. "Bellaria," you breathe in amazement. " _Bella._ "

I drop my head as a sob tears through me.

"I thought they were all dreams, but now…" With your thumb gently on my chin, you lift my eyes back to yours and move in closer, your chest to my chest.

"Now…?" I dare ask.

"I have loved you since I was a man old enough to know what love means. And I think…" You tilt your head closer, breath to breath. "I think you love me too. I think you _have_ been waiting for me. Either that or I'm insane," you smile.

I can't help chuckling. "You're not insane." Giving in to my overwhelming need, I reach up and touch your face, stubbly with some hair-growth...and nothing more. Your eyes close as your breath hitches. "I was afraid you wouldn't know me," I say in a strangled whisper, "but I should've known better. You've _always_ been the best, the most _human_ part of me."

"Bella…" You reopen your eyes, and now I clearly see the reverent adoration in them. It's a reflection of what's in my gaze.

"Bella," you repeat over and over. "Bella…" Then, you smile. "Bellaria, your name is a beautiful song, and I shall sing unceasingly your worship on my tongue."

"As choruses unbound," I reply, "as melodies resound through space and time…"

"So endures this love of mine. Bellaria, my heart, my soul."

"If ever you wonder how long this worship stays, know now it remains yours…"

"As always…" you say.

I close my eyes as your lips find mine, and after one hundred and fifty years, I'm home.

Yes, we loved and we lost.

We loved and we found and then we lost again.

Yet in between, we gained friends, family, brothers, and sisters. Most of them are in their own eternity with their own loved ones now. I will always miss them, but they deserve their own forever.

And as your mouth moves with mine, as you breathe your life into me once more, I see _our_ forever, the one I've held on to throughout all these years – the one that's been my anchor.

I see us making love this evening, reconnecting, our breaths mingling. I hear our cries, our whispers of old vows, and our promises of new ones.

I see myself staring at my reflection in the mirror, no longer seeing a jealous, young woman from the middle ages. Instead, I see you standing behind me with your hands wrapped around my growing midsection.

I see a wedding, and a house, and laughter, and tears, and all those events which make up a full life, a full _existence_.

But now, you pull me into your arms, and in your embrace, I see that vision I first saw on that mountain many years ago. Yet now, it replays itself much more clearly.

 _I see you walking toward me with a young boy who looks just like you. And when you drop to one knee, wrap an arm around his shoulder and point, I see your mouth move, and I_ _ **hear**_ _your words:_

" _EJ, there's Mommy. Let's go get her home. The baby in her belly is probably kicking up a storm."_

 _I see the wonder and excitement in our son's – in Emmett Jasper Cullen's – small face._

Did the women in my bloodline see what would be or were their visions simply possibilities existing within our fates?

I still don't know. I don't know if I'll ever have the answer to that. But I know one thing: the future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.

So, I won't treat our future as a curse or even as fate.

I squeeze my eyes and my hands, and I return the gift I was handed down – perhaps just for a while, perhaps forever. _Now_ is time for the present. You and I will decide our future together.

Pulling away only enough to meet your gaze, I look up at you and smile.

My Edward. My immortal love.

"For always, Edward," I say, completing our verse. "For always."

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts?**

 **A few housekeeping items first:**

 **1\. I have a board on Pinterest of pics/artwork/banners, etc. which kept me inspired throughout the story. I had to pin it as "Secret" for a while because some of the pics would've given too much away. But now, we're done. :)**

 **2\. I will post a playlist of the music that kept me inspired for this story on my 'Stories by PattyRose' Facebook page.**

 **3\. I plan to post a "Family Tree" of Bellaria's ancestors/family on the above-mentioned Facebook page. Keep an eye out for that if you're interested.**

 **4\. Later today, around noon EST, I'm hosting a Q &A session on that same Facebook page or on my Twitter account, in case you guys have any remaining questions/comments. If you're not on either of those platforms and have questions/comments, PM me. And you can ask questions at any time now, even if you're not ready at noon.**

 **Most importantly, thank you so much, guys, for joining me as I romped through a pretty dark part of my mind. I know some of you had a hard time, but thanks for sticking with it. And if you couldn't stick with it, that's fine as well. Everyone has different tastes.**

 **Enjoy the rest of your summer!**

 **Patty**

 **Twitter: PattyRosa817**

 **Facebook: Stories by PattyRose**


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